Somewhere Across the Stars
by ClaptonJr
Summary: One of Luke's colleagues screws up, and gets them both captured on Mara's new Star Destroyer. The ensuing hijinks brings Luke closer to someone he never would have expected... and that one errant move by his fellow pilot my have helped Luke more than he thinks. Luke x Mara, Eventually Leia x Han. Set 2.5 years after the Battle of Yavin. THE STORY IS BETTER THAN THE SUMMARY!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, people. I figured I'd write something for Star Wars. I've written a few other fanfics, but none with such a prolific couple like Like and Mara. So, here goes.**

(Corellia, circa 2.5 ABY)

"That was a hell of a party!" Wedge exclaimed, stumbling out of a Corellian apartment.

"Han sure knows how to throw a party," Leia noted.

"Mm hmmmmm…"agreed one of the X-Wing pilots, just before he fell over.

"(Burp) I think we needed some more alcohol…" drawled one of Han's Corellian friends.

"And (hic) some more beers," cut in the collapsed X-Wing pilot.

Luke Skywalker watched with amusement as members of the Rogue Squadron, mixed with drunk native Corellians, wobbling their way over toward the landing pads. He wasn't one for heavy drinking, and was thus drafted as the group's "designated flyer."

Watching the pilots and native delinquents bumble around drunkenly was worth not having a few drinks. Grinning, he pulled out a holovid camera and began filming.

Leia grabbed the fallen X-Wing pilot by the heels and started pulling, trying to keep up with the group. "Ahh… (hic) Leia… Right there…" he drawled on, much to the groups amusement.

Frustrated, Leia dropped him on the ground and kept walking.

The pilot opened his eyes to see Wedge and three others standing over him. "Aww, (hic) it's just you guys. (hic) Where's Leia? (hic)"

Unlike the drunken pilot, some people had drank more sparingly. It was one of those Corellians who responded, "She dropped you here and kept walking."

Other than a weird facial expression and a series of slurred mumbles, the pilot was too drunk to respond intelligently.

"Don't worry," Wedge laughed. "She went to get you some more alcohol and beers."

_-40 standard minutes later-_

Luke snickered, remembering what had transpired less than an hour ago. He was thankful to have recorded it. If only Obi Wan was still alive. He would get a kick out of this.

Luke frowned, remembering how the old Jedi had sacrificed himself to save himself, Leia, and their contingent. Someday, he would avenge his former mentor. Someday, he would go up to that monster Darth Vader, and he would…

Smiling, he thought of the ways he would avenge his father, Obi Wan, and their extinct Jedi Order.

"Let go of your anger, Luke," the Obi Wan's spirit advised, appearing in the empty pilot seat to his left.

"Get out of here, Obi Wan. He's done too much to forget."

"Luke, I am fine with being an apparition. Saving you was worth it. I have fulfilled my destiny by enabling you to live and have a chance at fulfilling yours. And I still saw the scene on Corellia." Obi Wan laughed quietly, but with a hint of sadness, almost as if laughing put a strain on his spiritual remnant.

"What am I going to do, Ben?"

"Just never get as drunk as those pilots, Luke."

"Thanks, Obi Wan," Luke said sarcastically. "I will forever endear your words in my heart."

Shaking his head, Obi Wan slowly became more and more transparent. It was sort of symbolic, Luke assumed. Almost like saying that when you die, you have nothing to hide.

The now invisible spirit of Obi Wan Kenobi could sense his thoughts through the force. What Luke completed was true… from a certain point of view.

* * *

Mara Jade was getting absolutely nothing done. Of course, having been recently gifted with a Super Star Destroyer from Emperor Palpatine, she should have something to do besides twiddle her thumbs.

Sense the irony?

Nonetheless, she milled around her quarters. More luxurious than anyone's on the ship, it reminded her of a room in an imperial apartment, or at least a middle –class home.

Like her room, it was a nice ship. Straight from the outfitters and newly commissioned, it was one of the best, most state-of-the-art, most intimidating Star Destroyers patrolling the space lanes. But seriously, what was wrong with her old personal starship?

She pulled the bed sheets taut, and looked around idly.

"Commander Jade?" someone from the bridge asked, appearing on her desk's portable holovid.

That was another "issue." She had her own ship, but next to no privacy. And she was only given the mere rank of Commander? Sighing, she turned around towards the holovid.

Her usual strategy of being outwardly threatening took over.

"You are not to use the holovid receiver in my bedroom. It is for my personal use only. Is that _understood_?"

"Commander, we tried your study. You were not present," the Imperial officer droned.

"I don't care. You know the rules. It's my ship."

"Yes, Commander Jade. We just called to notify you that we are passing into Rebel-polluted space."

"Understood, Admiral. Proceed as planned."

The holovid cut short, and Mara went back to her state of boredom.

She was a bit regretful, always having to act so much like her Master. Sometimes, she was mean just to hide any vulnerability, so she could be seen as the Emperor wanted her. Fearless.

_Why was she even doing this?,_ she wondered. A Super Star Destroyer with a large bedroom and other comforts really wasn't payment for five years of extreme loyalty as his assassin.

Palpatine, or should she say Darth Sidious, and his style permeated through the Imperial ranks. The Admiral on the holovid had referred to the Rebels as "pollution."

They called the enemy inhuman, but those hypocritical imperials were much the same. Palpatine was the worst. He had taken her from her family.

She remembered, if not vividly, but the memories were there. She had been…kidnapped? No, officially she was handed over (taken) to be trained as an assassin. Barely, she remembered her parents, not wanting to let her go, but powerless to stop it.

That was the first time she used the force. When she sensed her parent's regret, at the young age of three, sealed the deal. Since completing her "training" at the age of fourteen, almost five years ago, Palpatine had slowly sucked both her morals, and then parts of her life, out of existence by forcing her to snuff out others.

_But I had been taught no other way_, she reflected remorsefully.

The little girl in her, the one with the love for her parents, the one with emotions and happiness, had been locked away years ago.

She had recently sensed the same conflict in her superior's apprentice, Lord Vader. He was more machine than man-a cyborg. When Anakin "died", as she had been taught by Palpatine, he truly "unlocked his potential". She had been pulled in the same way.

_The humanity in him had been snuffed out the same way, _she realized_. His loyalty towards his [re]creator would win, but his humanity would always come back and attempt to undermine his remorseless intent._

It was much like the Rebel Alliance she was always fighting. Outnumbered but resilient, they were nearly impossible to destroy 100%, 100% of the time.

_What am I thinking?!_ She silently chided, squashing back the Rebel Alliance in her. She was 18 years old, and this would be her life. Like Lord Vader, things were too late for her.

She continued re-organizing, now focusing on a section of her dresser. The fatigue shirt on the top pile was so inconveniently permeated with memories. It had been given to her by an Imperial palace dancer, who had used to be friends with. Before Palpatine cut her ties to the outside world to focus on her training.

It was all black, but the front had a row of beaded wine glasses. The back read, "Wine a bit. You'll feel better." Well, she wasn't allowed to whine or complain at all. But she still appreciated the pun.

Slowly opening a cabinet in a nearby room, she pulled out a small bottle of Corellian wine. As she poured a small glass, she desperately wished she could release her pent-up feelings the same way.

But they would probably be colored the same hue as her wine.

**Just an introductory chapter. **

**Feel free to leave PMs and reviews with plot ideas. Suggestions are always welcome. **

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! **

**-ClaptonJr.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

When he had scouted the planet Hoth in search of a location for a new rebel base, this was not what he had in mind. A hole dug in the side of a frozen mountain hardly constituted a base. Sure, it was big and it had people. But that description also fit the bottom levels of Coruscant.

And the food was terrible.

Luke sat down at an empty table towards the front of the Echo Base mess hall, carrying a small cup of heated blue milk. It was the only decent food or beverage provided by the food synthesizer. It had probably been programmed by the Emperor himself.

The name was fitting. A _hall of messes_. But it was the most crowded spot at the base.

"Gee, Han, I think you finally have some real competition," he heard a voice say, over the cacophony.

"Would you shut up? He was as drunk as the rest of us."

Han and Wedge appeared from around a corner, embroiled in conversation.

"Who's got competition?" Luke inquired, standing up from his table.

"Heyyy Luke!" Han greeted, overly-cheerful. Cleary trying to distract him from the point.

"Heeeyyyyyyyyyy, Luke," Wedge smirked, exaggerating Han's greeting.

An unusually annoyed Han Solo scowled. "Wedge here thinks that I like Leia."

"You do."

"I do not!" Han defended, his voice unintentionally rising at least an octave.

"Yeah you do, better ask her out before that X-Wing pilot does."

"Kriff, Wedge, he was drunk! Everyone is stupid when they're intoxicated. Don't you remember that party in Tyrena five years ago?"

Wedge threw a warning glare at Han.

"Wait, what happened in Tyrena?" Luke interrupted.

"Well…" he began, at which point Wedge began to roughly push him away from Luke, disappearing back into the crowd.

Leia was right. Corellians never seem to grow up.

Just then, a young private, still in his outside gear, rushed over. "Commander Skywalker, your presence is requested at the main hangar bay immediately," he recited.

"Okay," Luke replied, barely listening. He just realized that the mess hall ceiling had no ventilators…

Disgusting.

* * *

"Luke, where have you been?" Leia asked. "And where are Han and Wedge?"

"Mess hall," he replied. "They were fighting over an old incident in Tyrena."

Leia winced, knowing what he was referring to.

"You know what it was about? What happened?"

Leia simply stated, "You don't want to know."

Luke scratched his head. "So why am I here?"

The Alderaanian princess remembered why she had requested his presence. She pointed toward the hangar opening, which was now covered in snow. There, a gloss-white, medium sized fighter sat idle on the ready pad. "Apparently, a Chandrilian engineer and pilot is sympathetic towards our goal."

Luke followed his sister, who approached the white ship. It was at least one hundred twenty feet long, with very clean lines. An elongated bubble canopy sat perched fifteen feet behind the nose cone, which tapered to a very sharp point.

The wings and fuselage blended together in gentle curves. The delta wings started just below the rear of the cockpit as wing root extensions much like an F-18 or MIG-29. But they joined instead at the _bottom_ of the fuselage, working away from it at a low angle. They gradually turned outward, joining a cropped delta wing.

_Cropped deltas_ in aviation refer to either curved or linear delta (triangle-like) wings that have had the outer few feet removed, usually in a straight line. This, in our world, would be similar to an F-16's. The unidentified space-plane's wings, true to the rest of itself, curved back at the outermost leading edges. The cropped wing had the capacity to hold weapons, but it still remained sleek when its ordinance pods were not attached.

Below the center of the each wing, a trapezoidal pod was (again) blended into the wings. Each held two hyperdrive engines. But why would they need an air intake?

The one sharp angle in this vehicle existed a few feet after the clipped ordinance position. The back of the wing, if viewed from above, came straight towards the center of the plane, where it rose to the height of the fuselage. At the back wing roots, the rear edge of the wing turned sharply backwards, blending into with the nose-like tail cone. Small vertical stabilizers, all-turning control surfaces, jutted out from this wing root directly behind the wings, in line with their airflow.

This, Luke realized, would make the plane more aerodynamic with a smaller head-on profile, also making it more agile. The rudder, sticking out of the top of the fuselage, was likewise joined with a bending curve. There were few truly straight lines on this vehicle. Whoever designed it was a genius.

"Why, thank you," said a voice. Luke and Leia turned around, to see a young pilot with black hair standing behind them.

"Are you force sensitive?" Luke asked, noticing how he had sensed their awe.

"Not necessarily. It's just the predictable reaction I get," the newcomer stated smugly. "The Nicomedia is a nice ship. I designed her that way."

"You are skilled," Luke said aloud. "Did you build this yourself.

"Designed, cut, assembled, wired, yup. Made the engines too."

"I see they have air intakes. Why would they need air intakes?" Leia cut in, joining the conversation.

"Those engines aren't just hyperdrives. In atmospheres, they act as ramjets."

"It's brilliant," Luke said, grossly understating his shock, "but why did you bring it here?"

The pilot smiled. "Along with myself, I would like to endow its capabilities to the Rebel Alliance."

**IT'S CHRISTMAS ALL YEAR LONG ON HOTH! Might as well give the Rebels a present.**

**Next chapter will feature Mara Jade again. Stay tuned!**

**P.S.: If you have no idea what that ship looks like, PM me. I could explain it a bit.**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Luke looked suspiciously at the man. He couldn't have done this all himself. At most, he was seventeen years old. His youth was evident.

"Who are you?" they all asked at once.

"Andover Casimir. "

Just then, two corporals came from the guard posts near the hangar door. They pushed Andover away from the small group. Knowing what would happen next, Luke, Leia, and Han followed.

-Five minutes later-

"Why am I in an interrogation chamber?" the Andover asked.

"Standard procedure," beeped the interrogation droid hovering nearby.

"So let me get this straight. I defect from my home planet with arguably the most advanced craft in the galaxy. I bring hordes of information, and I offer to join depleted squadrons as an electronic countermeasures flier. Instead, I get hooked to a chair with electrodes taped to my head."

"Confirmed," beeped the droid.

Luke, Leia and Han were standing on the other side of a glass window that allowed a view into the chamber. Sighing, Leia pressed the button on the microphone.

"We just have to ask a few questions."

"Here's a question. WHY?"

"To confirm if you have a connection to the Empire."

At the word "empire," the droid went wild. "Confirmed threat," it beeped, literally (electrically) shocking the captor.

"Hey people!" the Andover exclaimed. "Your droids aren't getting any smarter."

Leia pulled her finger off of the button, cutting off the audio transfer.

"He seems suspicious," Han stated coolly.

"Han, this could be our big break," Luke countered. "We're short on pilots _and_ engineers. We'll take anyone we can get."

Leia activated the microphone again. "We're just going to ask you some baseline questions, to see if you're lying."

She perused through all the information they could find about him.

"Is your full name Andover Casimir?"

"Yes." The droid's screen showed no spike in his heart rate.

"Are you seventeen years old?"

"Yes. And four days and three hours."

Han and Luke shared confused looks.

"Are you from the Chandrillian town of Liezden?"

"Yes." Again, no spike.

"How did you hear about us?" Leia inquired.

"I met Mon Mothma on Chandrilla."

"How'd you meet her?" Luke asked.

Andover looked down. "I-uh…" The heartbeat sensor jumped.

"See," Han exclaimed, quick to judge. "An Imperial liar."

"He didn't answer our question," Leia chided.

"Andover?" Luke prompted, tapping the glass.

Meekly, Andover replied, " I may have helped her out of her burning beach house after I shot a fighter into the second floor."

Leia ran a hand through her hair, and reread the results.

"Truthful, Probability-99.8 percent," the droid's printout read.

"Would you look at this," Leia mused, calling Han and Luke back over.

Luke scanned through the recorded answers. "I didn't know Mothma had a beach house."

"It's a nice place," Leia confirmed. "But it said on the Holonet that the house had been hit by an Imperial TIE."

"It was," Andover stated, appearing at the group's left.

"How did you get out of the chamber?" Leia asked, rather angrily.

"I built a 40-million credit plane. I think I could beat a 5-credit lock."

"Tell us more about the TIE incident," Luke prompted.

"Basically," Andover stated, "two TIEs and one TIE-Advanced came out of the clouds on an overcast day and dove at her house. Just then, I was flying along the beach shooting stun lasers at a large flock of birds for fun."

"And you shot down a TIE?" Leia squeaked.

"No," Andover sighed. "Long story short, the birds flew up into the wings of both TIEs and damaged the -Advanced too. One of the three collided with her house."

"So you _accidentally_ killed three TIEs?" Han asked.

"Yup," Andover laughed. "I gave them the bird…"

* * *

"Did you hear about the Mothma fiasco?" someone asked from the doorway.

Mara looked up. Her friend, Corporal Lyudmila Trut, walked into her study.

"No," Mara said, intrigued.

Lyudmila sighed. "Three TIEs were secretly going to attack her house but instead hit a large flock of birds."

Mara set down her paperwork. "Oh, I heard something about that. Didn't one of the fuselages smash the roof?"

"Other than a large hole and a small fire, it left no damage whatsoever. Intelligence has confirmed Mon Mothma is alive and in hiding."

"So, we're still going to be fighting for a while?"

"It's likely."

Mara groaned inwardly.

"Something wrong?" Lyudmila asked, noting her unease.

Mara really couldn't put her finger on it. "I guess," she finally said, "that I don't feel that this is a rewarding line of work."

"I'm confused," Lyudmila stated bluntly. "You are highly regarded by the Emperor himself as his his favorite assassin-"

"Shh! Shh! Shhhh!" hushed Mara. "Can't you say that any _louder_?"

"-And you get your own personal Super Star Destroyer…"

"Lyudmila, the only part of this ship I own is this apartment-sized set of rooms. If I worked this hard on Coruscant, I'd have my own mansion by now."

"And yet you don't like the fact that the Emperor is pleased by your 'work'."

"Not if I have to kill whoever he says for the rest of my life."

Lyudmila frowned, and stood up. "You are starting to sound like a Rebel sympathizer," she accused.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Honestly," Lyudmila said, "You need a vacation."

**REVIEW! Suggestions/plot ideas always help.**

**Expect an update next week.**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry, it's been a while since I updated. I figured I'd give you a long chapter as a sort-of apology.**

**I figure I had better accelerate the plot. So, here goes.**

Chapter Four

(Three Months Later)

Three months. Luke had survived three _long, arduous months_ with Andover.

It's not that he was a bad person. He just never shut up.

Luke looked around the ready-room, where pilots received their briefings. Members of the Rogue squadron, as well as the two survivors of the Renegade Flight, sat throughout the room in randomly-chosen seats.

After the Renegade Flight (one of the sects of the dissolved Red Squadron) was obliterated during an escort mission, its two grounded pilots were absorbed into the Rogues.

Half of the seats in the room were empty, a reminder of those who had lost their lives.

Andover had unceasingly complained over Mon Mothma's style of giving intelligence that operatives had gained, then noting how many died in the process.

_"No offense, Lady," he bitterly mumbled when they were informed of the incident, "but all we Rebels ever do is die to accomplish things."_

Two seats to his left, that same Andover sat asleep on a chair, lightly snoring.

Because of his perfectionism, the fleet had never looked better. Restrained to ground duty as a precaution, since he just recently talked his way into the Alliance, he had taken it upon himself to make sure everything was in good working condition. Luke smiled, remembering the fit Andover had taken when he saw the dirty (as usual) Millennium Falcon.

It provoked a long and vicious argument with one disgruntled Han Solo. Luckily, two nearby pilots managed to restrain the two before someone threw a punch.

Andover shifted in his seat slightly. The snoring stopped.

"Attention!" one of the lieutenants at the door shouted. Andover was jarred from his sleep, his latent reflexes throwing him off balance. He haphazardly fell out of his seat onto the floor.

As Princess Leia and Admiral Ackbar walked into the room, Luke forced himself not to laugh audibly as Andover gracelessly tried to stand back up.

"Due to our unforeseen boon brought about by Lieutenant Casimir's defection," Ackbar began, "today we will fly electronic countermeasures against a small nearby Imperial Task Force. This mission will require the electronic equipment found in his spaceplane. Six fighters of the Rogue Squadron will fly cover."

The lieutenant at the door began handing out the flight plans and mission folders.

"Wedge will fly as leader," Ackbar stated. Wedge merely nodded, taking his assigned folder.

Leia began listing the commissioned pilots.

"Commander Skywalker."

"Yes ma'am."

"Lieutenant Jones."

"Yes ma'am."

"Lieutenant Casimir."

"What? I get to fly today?" Andover questioned. He began a short victory dance.

Ackbar shook his head. "Lieutenant, I really do not believe that was necessary."

"Whatever!" Andover yelled. "It's my first Rebel sortie!" He excitedly ran out of the room towards the hangar, completely forgetting his own mission folder.

Leia watched him leave with an amused look on her face. Handing both his and Andover's folders to Luke, she kept reading off the names.

* * *

By the time the flight crews had made their way out to the dug-out cave/hangar, Andover had taken his place in his plane and had already started up the _Nicomedia_'s preflight checklist.

Luke walked up towards the plane and ascended the ladder that helped someone enter the cockpit.

"Ah!" he exclaimed in shock. Andover was wearing a psychedelic-rainbow helmet, with thin, wavy spectrums repeating over and over again. A thick black line split the helmet down the center from front to back. At the front, the black merged with a flat white prism design. The bottom of the prism aligned with the rim of the helmet, right above the eyes. Down each side, vertical thin, wavy rainbow patterns repeated as reflections of themselves. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, blue, green, yellow, orange, red...

_Looking at this wave-like bright pattern for more than five minutes,_ Luke thought, _would probably make me sick._

He remembered what he was told right before he left the briefing room. "Andover, Ackbartold me I was flying frontseater."

Andover looked back at Luke. "No, I am. I built it. I'm the only one who knows how it works."

"And because you built it, you put it in a state of eternal dibs."

"Correct," he acknowledged, barely looking up.

Luke, resigned, gently stepped onto a panel that folder outward and down from the fuselage, designed to help the rear pilot get to his seat. Stepping onto the small platform, Luke swung himself up into the plane.

From his current vantage point, he could see forward into the front cockpit. He was amazed.

Compared to the ancient technologies in the X-Wings, such as mechanical gauges, this plane was a Corusca Gem. Many of the instruments on the instrument panel were replaced by four large touchscreens, arranged in an upside-down T pattern. Luke could see Andover using it, resetting the flight computer's memory.

The side instrument panels had a few toggle switches towards the wall of the plane, all of which marked digitally. Towards the back of these side panels were touchscreens, prevalent on both sides. Front of the switches and near the main panel were the controls. A two-sectioned leaver-covered lever on the left controlled the thrust, and the joystick was on the right. A line of square, blinking transparent buttons arched around the front canopy mountings and around the top of the main panel. Furthermore, two slew knobs were placed above the left and right screens, and another row of lighted buttons were arranged below the screens.

And, it had a holographic heads-up display.

The rear cockpit was probably just as complicated.

Luke strapped on his own (more regular) helmet, and adjusted his position on the uncomfortable ejection seat. The ejection seat was one of the few second-hand parts in the plane. Though it was repainted and fixed up, Luke could tell that is was probably pulled out of a scrap pile.

"Any questions?" Andover asked.

Luke thought for a moment. He settled on "How does it work?"

"I left a flight manual on your ejection seat. You're probably sitting on it."

Luke squirmed around in his seat, feeling for the pamphlet.

"It's not here," he said finally. Andover sighed, stood up in his seat and turned around.

"Here," he said, handing another pamphlet to Luke. "I have an extra."

Luke skimmed through the piece of paper, and back to his cockpit. A large central touchscreen, according to the paper, was the radar intercept screen. A small Aurebesh keyboard was placed below that. A series of gauges were strewn around the rest of the main panel.

Luke noticed a secondary hyperdrive control panel, used to work in conjunction with the pilot.

The other side was covered in emergency information and a secondary joystick. The manual stated that it was there should the front pilot be incapacitated, enabling the rear pilot to still fly.

Following the listed preflight procedure, he hit a bunch of switches and activated the radar, turning the primary action to "sidescan." He then lifted the red switch cover on the left console labeled VTOL-TP. Luke flipped the switch, and the cockpit's screens and lights began to flash.

The control lights started blinking, and the left and right panels activated themselves. Then, Luke's computer began to start up. He looked at the miles of coding as they began filling charts on his screen.

The coded screen flashed to a blue one, showing a line drawing of hyperdrive lanes.

"Enter your destination's coordinates now," read the computer screen.

"Where was that fleet? T6, I think?" Luke requested aloud. He flipped on the radio.

"Wedge! Where is the fleet?"

"T6."

"Thanks, Wedge." Luke repeated the coordinates, which the computer immediately handled.

Luke, now realizing that he would not be of great concern to the mission for about five hours, began fiddling with his hands.

"If you're looking for something to do, there's a media drive on the flight computer," Andover informed, virtually reading his mind.

"Are you force sensitive?" Luke inquired. "You seem to always read my thoughts."

Andover scoffed. "If I'm anything, I'm forcibly _in_-sensitive. Anyway, I uploaded some holovids, and a bunch of old albums I got from my uncle."

"I'm guessing it is on the C Drive?" Luke asked, reading the pamphlet he was given.

"Yup." Luke tapped the screen, and it showed him a wide range of options.

"Why are there romance holovids on here?"

"What?" Andover exclaimed. He cursed under his breath. "Sorry Luke. My sister usually flies back there. She changes my files a lot." He paused. "Luke, go into the Songs folder. Is the Duck Song there?"

Luke clicked on the screen. "Yes, it is."

Andover groaned. "You can play it, if you want. If my sister got in there, it's probably the best song left."

Luke clicked on it.

_When the duck walked up to the lemonade stand…_

Luke could sense Andover becoming irritated. He stopped the song.

"I'm going to put on one of your sister's movies," he announced.

"Just use the wireless headphones," Andover directed.

"Wait, there are headphones?"

"Yeah. Lower left cabinet."

After two movies and a few reruns of the Duck Song, Luke's screen soon flashed to the radar interface.

"Luke, we are 17 klicks away. Commence attack procedure." Andover announced. He then called for the attention of the X-Wing pilots. "Okay, Rogue flight, don't come closer than 14 klicks. We need cover, we'll call."

"Limit radio contact, enter left holding pattern. Roger."

"Okay!" exclaimed Andover. Luke, reading the manual, pulled up a commands folder that popped up in the lower right screen. He adjusted the radar to INS, as the manual told, and activated the jamming screen. The fleet was now only 15 clicks away, and the fighters turned away.

The top part of the fuselage slid back, and a large rectangular pod was pushed outside the craft.

Jamming procedure commenced, flashed the screen.

13 klicks…

12 klicks…

11 klicks…

Mara rushed onto the bridge. "What is going on?!" she asked. Barely anyone looked up from their screens to take notice.

"We're under a Rebel attack," yelled one of the radar operators.

"I want the Emperor on the line now." Mara growled.

"Can't get through. All VHFs appear covered," rattled of a Communications officer.

"Scramble Fighter Group 21," ordered the Admiral in command. One of the lieutenants relayed the message through the computer down to the hangars.

Mara thought for a moment. "No, hold the fighters," she spoke on the intercom. "If it's blocking our radio, it is probably modified. Electronic countermeasures craft are usually only given basic armaments."

"Ignore her. Scramble, scramble, scramble!" he said.

She force-pushed the insolent officer away from the computer. He roughly collapsed onto the metal plating, Mara angrily hovering over him.

"The Emperor has so graciously put me on this ship for a reason. With all intents and purposes, this ship is under my command and you will do as I say." Petrified, the Admiral could barely nod in compliance.

"Fighters away!" announced the cockpit speakers.

"No, call them back," Mara directed.

There was a muffled response on the other line, as the poor ensign in the flight hangar tried to gain the attention of the departing TIEs.

"I'm sorry, Commander Jade. The fighters are already away and the comms are down. We can't get 'em back."

Annoyed at the subversion of her command, Mara sat down in a chair. "Radar, where's the bogey?"

"Umm…" the young officer on duty looked confused. "Radar's down, we can't tell. Flight?"

An ensign in the Flight Navigation responded, "Can't get a clear reading, we estimate 8 kilometers and closing fast. We picked up a flight of seven a while ago, but most of those radar contacts just disappeared."

"Hey!" shouted a young male officer working the radar, who was peering at his screen. "The transmission seems to be focusing on a very-high frequency band at about 102.5 megahertz."

"Interpret the signal," Mara ordered.

"Roger." He adjusted a knob below his computer screen. The low background static noise gradually dissipated as patchy music began to play in the speakers.

"Here we go…" he announced.

The speakers next to one of the consoles on the bridge turned on, and the patchy music filled the command area. At least, you could call it music, but the transmission was partially encrypted. The end result sounded a bit like this:

_Static fuzz "When the duck…" static "lemonade stand-" crack, pop! "Said to the…" More static "…stand, 'Hey!'…"_

"What the hell is that?" Mara asked incredulously. These Rebels, if they were indeed Rebel Alliance attackers, were a perplexing bunch.

* * *

The Imperials observed as the yet-unidentified _Nicomedia_ came closer and closer to the Super Star Destroyer.

"We broke the four-klick radius," Luke announced. "Hey, there's the ship."

"Mm hmm," Andover responded, distantly. "Hey, Luke, check on the jamming program for me?"

Luke tapped his screen, and then tapped the large icon labeled "Transmission Wizard/Data Com." He then opened the menu, activating the "Verify transmission" box.

The Duck Song filled the cockpit.

"Luke," Andover asked, trying to remain calm, "was that playing this whole time?"

Luke checked his computer. "Yes, I had it on a loop. Why?" Then he heard a large thump, presumably Andover hitting something in anger.

"Damn, Luke, you weren't in the media player! You were broadcasting that on the radio waves! That was the transmitter! The Imperials probably can see us on their radar!"

"Wedge-" Luke began, about to call for help…

Andover threw the plane into a sharp right barrel roll, making Luke drop his comm unit. "We need backup!" the younger pilot called from the front. "Twenty TIEs, 12 o'clock tally, off one kilo."

**Ouch. Nice plane, bad situation.**

**At least this starts the plot device. Luke is going to meet Mara soon.**

**Also, REVIEW! I'm typing thousands of words here. Can't you leave a few of your own?**

**-ClaptonJr.**

**PS: In military slang, a "Klick" is a kilometer. That's why it starts with a K.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, guess what? Mara sees Luke for the first time this chapter. I plan on having them meet in the next one.**

Chapter 5

"For the record, this is your fault," Andover accused, sitting defeated in his plane.

"I fail to see how," Luke retorted.

Andover scowled. "Really? You played the _Duck Song_ instead of the jamming sequence. The Duck Song! And now guess what, we're going to be detained, tortured, and possibly executed!"

"It won't be that bad…" Luke said, unconvincingly.

"Uh huh," Andover replied skeptically. "You're Luke Skywalker! You destroyed the Death Star yourself! You killed Tarkin and millions of other Imperials who would have scared the entire _galaxy_ into submission! You're a war hero! And you're in my plane! I'm gonna get killed just because you're here!"

The two had feared the worst ever since the TIEs attacked. Without the timely help of Wedge and the other fighters, the TIEs had herded the _Nicomedia_ toward their own Star Destroyer. It had only been a minute when Luke realized they were caught in a tractor beam.

"Do you have a plan?" Luke asked hopefully.

"No!" Andover exclaimed defensively. "We weren't supposed to need one!"

They sat in near silence as the plane was pulled closer towards the hangar.

"Commence siesta mode," Andover said. It was not said in his usual excited voice, or his annoyed one. Instead, he spoke with a sense of defeat and despondency.

Luke watched as his console responded, slowly deactivating sections of the control board. The panels went dark, and the brightly-lit buttons did the same. All that remained lit was a small red bulb on the lower right side of the control board.

It was labeled "Emergency Transponder."

The spaceplane had just breached the aerated hangar, showing at least three hundred stormtroopers arranged in a rigid formation, when more Stormtroopers ran through a large set of doors. Instinctively, Luke fingered the lightsaber hooked to his belt.

"Leave it," Andover said.

"What?"

"Your lightsaber."

"You read my mind, again!" Luke stated. "How do you do that, if you are not force sensitive?"

Andover shrugged. "You're very predictable."

The plane was lowered onto the ground. A detachment of Stormtroopers ran up to it. Forcefully yanking off the canopy, Andover and Luke were roughly pulled from their seats and put into stun cuffs.

* * *

Mara walked purposely toward the hangar where Andover and Luke were being held. These Rebels should they in fact be Rebels, could possibly be important. As the Emperor's Hand, it was more than "personal business."

Vaguely, she could make out a strange force signature ahead of her. This person was obviously strong in the force. As there were fewer and fewer force-sensitives, their mere presence would send shock waves through the force.

And these were big shockwaves, too.

She pushed open a door and walked into a communications room. The wall joining the hangar was comprised entirely of transparisteel, so she could freely watch the detainment process. She observed as members of the Imperial Navy surrounding two young men, their sleek glistening white craft behind them. Mara smiled to herself, knowing these two would be no threat at all.

Well, maybe the one with the ugly flight helmet would, but she doubted it.

She watched, smiling, as the two were pushed toward their cells to await their interrogations.

* * *

Luke sat on his bunk, facing the wall, in his small iron-barred cell near the front of the Star Destroyer, vainly trying to meditate. Obi Wan, in the few lessons he had taught prior to his death, had emphasized meditation's importance as a way to unify one's self to the Living Force.

_Prior to his death_, Luke noted. He could feel the anger in him swelling.

"Relax yourself, Luke. Let go of your emotion." He turned towards the source of the voice. Obi Wan, in his blue ghost-like form, appeared, somehow leaning on the electrified cell bars. the cell.

"How am I supposed to relax?" Luke exclaimed, drawing looks from the Andover, the two guarding Stormtroopers, and the two prisoners across the hallway.

Looking for a means of escape, he rubbed his eyes and acted like he had just woken up. "Hmm? Just a dream?" he muttered, before apologizing. "Sorry."

Obi-Wan, still only perceivable to Luke, sat down on the floor of the cell. "You are to let go of your negative emotions and trust in the force."

Luke nodded in agreement, and Kenobi slowly faded out of sight.

There was not much else Luke could do, locked in his two-meter long, high, and wide chamber. As a farm boy on Tatooine, Luke would celebrate the idea of getting 8 of anything. Everything except eight cubic meters of living space. For that, he would gladly go back to his home planet.

The room that he was held in had four of these cells in it, two on each side of a central walkway with doors where the side walls would be. Luke had been escorted though dozens of these rooms during his trip to his current location. This pattern would likely continue for many rooms onward in all directions.

Slowly settling back into his meditative position, he let the force sweep through him. But his force senses soon began to overwhelm his attemp at relaxing. Surprise was litterally radiating off Andover as he started to scratch the back wall of his cell.

The surprise was still there, but soon a sense of urgency also permeated the force. Andover, however, gave no hints on his excitement. He gradually replaced his half-smile with his sabacc face. Whatever it was, it had spurred him to action but was not helpful enough to make him jump up and down with happiness.

Try as he might, Luke could not ignore the distraction of Andover repeatedly scratching the back wall of his cell over and over again. Why the wall? There was nothing remarkable about it. Thick duracrete blocks, probably durasteel-enforced, were covered in a rust-red/brown paint. It looked like it had been freshly applied, since the ship was so new and it had not yet dulled.

So why was he scratching it over and over again, as if trying to wear the paint off?

After a while, Andover had enough dust accumulating at the tip of his fingernail that it looked like he had just gone for a manicure. Luke laughed quietly at the thought.

"What?" Andover asked curtly, realizing that Luke had been observing his actions and trying to discern why.

Luke blinked and looked away quickly.

Sighing, Andover went back to his work, and Luke tried to continue meditating.

After a few hours, another stormtrooper entered the rooms, and relieved the two guards of their duties. The he flipped a switch, dimming the lights, and told everyone to stay quiet and go to sleep.

"Don't worry," Andover responded sarcastically. "Sleep comes so naturally to me, I could do it with my eyes closed."

Luke could sense that the stormtrooper was really not amused. He simply turned around and walked through the door to his right.

Andover continued scratching at the wall.

_Luke sat up, in a small white room. He knew it had to be a dream._

_Andover was there standing next to him, carrying two large boxes of… what, exactly?_

_Luke stood up, looking into the boxes and running his cupped hand through one of the boxes' contents. His hand brought up nothing more than a fine-grained dull red powder. The box then disintegrated, scattering its powder all over the ground._

_Andover pulled set down the other box on top of the pile. It brushed against a white metal pin on his shirt. The red powder caught fire, and the box was engulfed with flames. They watched as the box burned, its contents igniting and throwing themselves everywhere._

_Suddenly, a powerful shockwave ran through the area, and the entire burning mass shot up in a huge fireball. The fire engulfed Luke as he watched the white walls of his dream slowly collapse, revealing the detained situation he was in._

"Finally, you're awake!" Andover greeted.

"What?" Luke questioned, rousing himself from his languid state.

"You kept talking all night long. Something about boxes and you catching on fire."

Luke rubbed his eye. "Yeah," he acknowledged simply. He didn't want to say too much. He knew Jedi dreams could act as premonitions, and thus withheld the details.

The rear wall of Andover's cell now contained an inch-thick white line scratched through it. Working through the night, Andover must have worn off the paint. The scratched material lay in a small pile of red dust at the base of the wall. _Just like in my dream,_ Luke thought.

"At least now," Andover began, "I can get some sleep." He put his hands behind his head and lay down on his bunk.

Luke relaxed, and sat back down into his meditation position. But as always, Andover intruded on his peace. He stood up, looking at Luke ponderously. A grin cracked his now-regular sabacc face, and the urgency in his aura had dissipated. Luke felt something comparable to glee in its place.

But what he said still shocked the aspiring Jedi.

"Hey, did you know that they painted these walls with thermite?"

**Stay tuned! And please review!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Luke stared at him, dumbfounded.

Andover smiled. "That's right. Thermite." He smiled, and sat down on the other side of the iron bars separating them.

"How?" Luke asked. This must have been what andover was so shocked about yesterday.

"The walls are covered in aluminum powder, butyrate dope, and ferrous oxide," Andover informed, pronouncing it "al-you-mini-um."

"Anyway," he continued, "these wall panels aren't durasteel. They seem to be sheets of phosphor bronze, coated in primer immediately after they are cut. This primer has high aluminum powder content for reflectivity. It is then covered in three coats of iron-rich paint. The rocks necessary were probably salvaged from molten lava, as that is the cheapest way to get it while it is still thermodynamically stable. As this molten iron ore was pulled from the sides of lava flows, it had to be processed quickly."

"So they did not remove any of the ferrous oxide," Luke said, understanding where Andover was coming from.

He nodded. "Precisely."

"So you are implying that the Imperials have us imprisoned in a bomb without a fuse?"

Andover nodded again. "Mm hmm."

"And if we ignite it, we're free?"

"I'm wearing off the coating so I can burn a small hole in the wall. Soon, all I'll need is a fire to be free." Andover stated. "But I don't know how to make one here. I don't have a match, they took my chrono… maybe we could use our electrified iron bars as igniters?"

"So all we need is a spark," Luke observed.

"Yeah, we do."

Luke thought back to his dream. "Do you have a white pin on you?"

"Yeah…" Andover began, searching through his uniform. "What? They took it? ****." He turned back to Luke. "No, they took it."

Luke began to think of anything they could use.

"How to get ignite phosphor bronze…" Andover thought aloud, as if it might help.

"Phosphorous bronze is used in matches," Luke said. "All you need is friction. Maybe a hardened alloy of some sort."

"They won't give us anything useful," groaned the reply. "Just our gilded dreams."

Luke chuckled mirthlessly at his pun. Soon, they both recessed back into their thoughts.

* * *

Mara looked through the reports Lyudmila had brought her. There were no extremely useful bits of information on the two captives, and no proof that they were important whatsoever.

She picked up a piece of paper, and read the title. _Flight plan analysis, _it read.

She crumpled it in a ball and threw it into a container.

Was there no end to incompetency among the Imperial ranks? If this was the best they could come up with, no wonder the Rebels were winning. Hit and run guerilla tactics were impossible to defend against if the flight crews couldn't actually do what was needed 100 percent of the time.

She picked up the next sheet. It was titled, _Detainment Specifics._

_Like I don't already know_, she mused.

The next sheet was more interesting. It listed all known information on the two.

It read:

_Casimir, Andover. _

_-Born 20:5:17 GrS, in Liezden, Chandrila. _

_-Known for his exceptional electronic work and piloting skill, and being an escape artist._

_-Currently lives in a derelict hangar outside the old Liezden Spaceport._

_-Has a twin sister, Avramova Casmir, same birthdate and residence._

_-Jailed under two counts of political hooliganism, three count of criminal mischief, one count of assassination and one count of destruction of Imperial property. Escaped and listed as a fugitive under court order charge of escaping and evading capture._

_-Believed to have an association with rebels operating in the Chandrilian system. _

_-Assigned lifetime imprisonment._

_Skywalker, Luke_

_-Born near the settlement of Mos Eisely, Tatooine, circa year 16 GrS._

_-Worked on a moisture farm._

_-No living blood relatives._

_-Resided with aunt and uncle until 35 GrS. They were shot that year in a military recovery mission. No other relations are on record._

_-Commander of the Rebel's elite Rogue Squadron._

_-Believed to have participated in the Battle of Yavin._

_-Likely trained in the Force by Jedi survivors._

_-Wanted personally by Lord Vader._

Mara whistled through her teeth. These boys, though not much more than teenagers, had managed to rack up quite an impressive list. Soon, they would undergo the interrogations and then the Emperor would be informed of the situation.

She smirked. A farmboy pilot and a skilled-but-practically-homeless political hooligan who had escaped capture had turned themselves into Rebel self-appointed wonders.

She called one of her subordinates through her comlink.

"Yes, Commander Jade?" he asked, ready for orders.

"Prepare the primary interrogation rooms and their adjacent holding cells. We will then question our newest prisoners."

"Yes, ma'am." With that, Mara turned off her comlink and set it down on her desk.

This ordeal had better qualify her for a promotion.

* * *

"Political hooliganism, destruction of Imperial property, criminal mischief, and evading capture?" Luke cried. "You're right! You _are _going to be executed, but it won't be my fault!"

Andover scoffed. "Of course it isn't. It's my sister's."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Of course it is."

With nothing else to do to keep themselves occupied, the two began to talk about their lives.

"Now, don't get all rude," Andover reprimanded. "My sister got arrested on some trivial issue, and I got the money and was rushing to the regional courthouse to pay the bail. I was in that prototype from the TIE incident-"

"Your sister got arrested too?"

"Well, she was trying to smuggle Imperial arms to Rebel moles-"

"And that's _trivial_ to you?"

Andover sniggered. "You should hear what I _haven't_ got arrested doing."

"So, back to the story..." Luke prompted.

"That prototype had been experiencing some flight control problems. At high speed, the external cooling system would get so hot; it would change shape and cover one of the cooling intakes. This melted all the wires leading to the rear elevators and the engine vectors.

"I was flying close to street level towards the courthouse, which happened to be hosting the governor at the time. The lower altitudes have higher pressures, and the friction melted the intake shut. I was about to pull up when I realized I couldn't pull up, and I was traveling straight at the courthouse at 1800 clicks per hour. So I ejected."

Luke was confused. "So you didn't die. What's illegal about that?"

Andover's lighthearted tone suddenly became mortified. "The plane hit the courthouse."

"You have a bad habit of putting planes into buildings," Luke replied bluntly. Andover merely shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"You don't understand," he said finally. "The explosion destroyed the courthouse. The governor died, along with two dozen Imperial judges, Stormtroopers, Imperial sympathizers, and Imperial people from all across the system. My mistake killed one hundredand forty two people and leveled half the plaza. I was given lifetime imprisonment, but I escaped and thought I was gonna be safe. And then look at me now." He glanced at his feet somberly. "You're right. I am gonna get killed."

Neither spoke for a few minutes. It was still "night time" on the Star Destroyer. Thus, no Stormtroopers were present and the other Prisoners were asleep. Their confidential conversation, seemingly ended, had really worn down their nerves. But Andover never seemed to stay asleep, so he persistently kept on talking.

"So how have you managed to ruined your life?"

* * *

As Andover listened with wide eyes to Luke's stories, Mara was busy finishing scheduled diagnostics on the ship's computers. Being personally trained by Palpatine, she was trusted more than anyone with the vast array of digital information on the ship. She watched as the flight computer diligently began printing readouts on the state of its parts.

"Take it from here," Mara ordered to the technician who was sitting next to her. Wordlessly, he nodded, and Mara left. Walking briskly through the hallways, she tried to remember where the interrogation cells were. Though it took her a good half hour, she eventually found her destination. She sat down into a chair in the interrogation room's antechamber, waiting impatiently for the Rebel pilots.

She thought, _This is going to be fun._

* * *

Just then, Andover and Luke were being escorted through the hallways by a rather large compliment of Stormtroopers.

"Remember," Andover sardonically reminded him. "All you need to tell them is you name, rank and serial number."

"I don't have a serial number."

Andover sighed. "Forget it. I was just trying to speak their-" …he gestured to the Stormtroopers… "-language."

Luke scoffed. "Yeah, like you actually have a serial number."

"According to my sister, it's W1ERD-A55H0LE."

It took Luke a few seconds to understand what that meant. When he did, he smiled weakly. "That bad, huh?"

"You're lucky you don't have a twin sister. You're force sensitive. Do you realize how kriffin' annoying it would be to share a force bond?"

Andover, through the course of Luke's life story, had been informed all about the Jedi, the Force, and everything relevant to it. But now, Luke wished he hadn't said anything in the first place.

He thought for a moment. "If I had a sister, we would probably get along very well."

"Yeah, right," Andover replied doubtfully. "A force bond? It'd be more like forced bonding."

"You're such a cynical person," Luke chided.

"I'm not cynical," his cell-mate defended. "Everything just sucks."

**All right, fine. I didn't get to Mara and Luke meeting this chapter. But as you can see, it is going to happen very soon.**

**Just a shout out to Empresselizabeth: Yeah, I'm going to continue. But reviews are my motivation to update. **

**So, if anybody reading this could take thrity seconds of your time to type a few words, it would be greatly appreciated.**

**Leave any comments, constructive criticism, or suggestions you have. Thanks.**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

To onlookers, it must have been pretty funny.

Close to a hundred heavily-armed stormtroopers were escorting two teenagers in stun cuffs through a series of passages towards the interrogation chamber. One of the "teenagers" kept cracking rude jokes and making wisecracks whenever the chance was offered. The other seemed to be on the border between a meditative calm and punching either his fellow prisoner or their captors.

_Hurting either would do me no good_, Luke thought miserably.

Andover and Luke were roughly pushed the last fifty feet towards a lone door at the end of the hallway. Luke wondered about the sudden change in their Stormtroopers demeanor. Maybe they actually did hear the rather insensitive joke Andover told Luke about their armor.

"Well, this is our stop," Andover remarked sourly. "Interrogation, clones, idiots, and all points west!"

"Can you stop with all of the sarcastic comments?" Luke asked, becoming annoyed. Andover's caustic wit was far more powerful than his short training in meditation.

"Sorry."

"Was that supposed to be a train joke? The all points west?"

"Yeah. If I said the train was going south on a one-way trip, then it would be a Stormtrooper joke."

The pushes and shoves got rougher.

"Can you just stop with jokes referring to trains and Stormtroopers?" Luke pleaded.

"Yes. I was going to say something else, but my train of thought derailed. There were no survivors."

Luke shot him a withering glare.

"And I'm not sure, but I think it was carrying Partly-cloudy troopers. They weren't Stormtroopers, that's for sure."

The door opened and they were practically thrown through the doorway. It was less of being thrown, per se, but more like being unceremoniously pushed to the floor. Andover landed on his face and cussed, while Luke managed to fall on his side. They looked up to see two stormtroopers, two uniformed officers, and a (Rather beautiful, Luke noted) redheaded woman in a black leather bodysuit standing above them. Among them, Luke sensed an ostensibly large force presence.

The two pensively stood up from the floor. As usual, Andover spoke first.

"Lady, I think your hair's bleeding." he smiled, basking in his insolence. He was rewarded with a slap to the face and a force-push back into the wall.

Luke could only look on as the redhead observed the teenager's collapsed figure with extreme contempt. The pieces didn't fit together. Why was a force user allied with the Empire? There could only be two Sith, Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader. And she wasn't, by definition, a well-kept secret if she was an illicit third Sith Lord.

His mind skipped through all of the classified information he had read over the last few years. Slowly, he mentally erased all but one possibility:

She was Mara Jade, Emperor's Hand.

* * *

He sure isn't the Jedi, Mara thought, observing the collapsed Rebel laying where the wall met the floor.

As he was in a collapsed heap, she felt comfortable enough to look over at the Jedi, Luke Skywalker.

The first thing she noticed was his piercing blue eyes. Unlike her emerald ones, which were usually narrowed to slits, his were bright. The next thing she noticed was his force signature. The one man, the sarcastic one, had left an aura of fear, but with enough of a chipper mood to cover it. Luke just stood still, looking at her curiously, like a tourist regarding an exotic bird at a zoo. A calming aura radiated off of him.

"Luke Skywalker," she half-greeted, the accusing tone bringing an edge to her words.

"Mara Jade," he spoke back calmly, his blank expression unchanged.

Her eyes narrowed further. "How do you know my name?"

"I get around," Luke stated simply.

"Owwwww…" Andover groaned. "So do I. Mara, thanks for the free flight." Both Luke and Mara looked down at him. He looked up at Mara, disbelief in his eyes. He then looked to Luke.

"Hey, buddy!" he exclaimed, obviously hurt but skill good enough to have enthusiasm. "She's a force user! Finally, a live female member of your species!" He looked back to Mara. "You two can repopulate, like, make more force sensitives!"

Mara turned red, and Luke looked to Luke. "Don't get any ideas," she suggested coldly.

Luke's blank face was soon split by a smile. "Oh, I assure you, it wouldn't be fun in stun cuffs."

At Mara's command, each stormtrooper pushed a captor into the padded room. The officers stood opposite a small table while Luke and Andover were strapped to their chairs around the waist. Mara observed on the other side of a transparisteel sheet, as usual in interrogations.

"Smooth," Andover commented, when the door had shut. "With the stun cuff comment? I must be rubbing off on you."

_Please, Force, no, _Luke prayed.

The officers began the interrogations by pressing a button on the wall. Andover eyed Luke nervously as a droid walked into the room, a needle extending it from one of the upper appendages.

"Procedure dictates we take midi-chlorian counts," stated the officer.

"Alright, Lieutenant DICK-tates."

Luke smiled at Andover's cruel joke.

"I could have you killed for contempt right now. Would you rather be respectful or put you or your Rebel friend in peril?"

"He's not in contempt," Luke pointed out. "He added the '-tates' for a reason."

Andover put his hands on the table and smiled brightly at the officers. "You wouldn't hurt him or me one bit. We're too valuable, with too much information. You would be helping us if you killed us, or even hurt us at all."

"Then you will tell us everything."

"No," Andover replied.

"Then we will torture you."

Calling their bluff, Andover leaned back and put his hands behind his head. "Go ahead."

Luke looked at him oddly, taken aback by his blatant risk.

The officer looked just as surprised as Luke. "Never mind that. We will now begin the midichlorian test."

* * *

Behind the transparisteel wall, Mara watched in concern as Andover and Luke smiled about something. She watched for a few moments as the officers pushed the droid closer to the detainees.

Her comlink buzzed, and she answered it.

"Commander Jade, your presence is requested on the bridge."

She waited a few seconds before responding. The officers seemed to have everything under control. So why not? "Okay," she responded. "I'll be up there in five minutes."

Luke watched as he saw Mara leave the room. Within a few minutes, she would be far away enough to not sense any Jedi mind tricks.

* * *

Andover gasped as the droid punctured his arm, sampling his blood cells for testing. The droid processed the information, and the officers stood still watching it. Eventually it beeped.

"What's the reading?" asked the one Imperial.

"7,000 per cell."

"But that's impossible!" Andover protested, trying to stand up out of his seat. "I have a 1500 count! I was tested four years ago at the doctor's!"

"Apparently not, you Rebel scum."

He sighed. "Yet another reason for them to kill me."

Meanwhile, Luke had been focusing on Mara's ever dimming force presence in his mind. She had her mental shields up, but that didn't mean he was entirely shut out. He could still figure out where she was. When it was dim enough that it was unrecognizable, he was ready.

He opened his eyes and looked over at the approaching droid.

"We need to obtain a sample of your blood," the droid recited, its mechanical voice sounding like an echo of itself.

Luke subtly waved at the officers. "You do not need to take any of my blood."

The officers blinked. "We do not need to take any of your blood."

He looked at the stormtroopers. "You will unlock us from our seats."

They repeated back virtually the same thing. After they unlocked Luke, he turned again to the officers. "You will give us our possessions immediately."

They consented.

Andover, now recovered standing freely, looked on curiously.

"Alright," Luke began. He waved his hand. "You will give us your blasters."

"Holy bantha crap that sounds perverted," Andover commented.

"We will give you our blasters." They did so. Andover picked up his, while Luke laid his on his seat.

"I do not think these Stormtroopers were taught colloquial slang," Andover announced.

He was ignored. Luke began giving another command, but was interrupted by Andover. Using a small wrist-slick, he said, "You will tell us the location of the nearest hull-breach alarm." Luke's eyes widened in shock when he realized that Andover was going to fake an Abandon-Ship Order.

"Turn left at the second hallway crossing the one that led you here. It will be thirty meters ahead of you," the Stormtroopers replied. He repeated the motion.

"You will go back to your bunks and you will forget this ever happened."

"Yes, sir." With that they left the room, leaving Andover and Luke behind.

"That was awesome!" Andover hollered. "And 7,000 midichlorians per cell! Wow!"

"You seem to have the mind control thing down nicely," Luke complimented.

His friend merely smirked. "I have a sister."

They collected Luke's lightsaber, their Rebel wings, and Andover's lucky white pin, and their flightsuits and helmets. They took their possessions, and were about to leave when Luke remembered that the officers were still in their mind-controlled trances.

He waved his hand at the officers. "You will leave this room and forget what has just happened." Like their Stormtrooper predecessors, they left the room like what can only be described as hypnotic statues.

Luke turned to Andover. "You told me you weren't force sensitive," he said accusingly.

"I didn't know!"

"How do you have seven thousand midichlorians per cell and not notice?"

"I thought I just understood people really well. And I can anticipate people's moves in a fight. But many people who are in similar upbringings can do that automatically."

"And you said you were tested at the physician's!"

Andover stared at him incredulously. "I live in a rusty hangar. What, do you think I can pay for an annual checkup?"

"Then how do you build you prototypes?"

Andover shifted. "The Alliance brought down an Imperial Cruiser on me and my sister's runway. They got the troops, I got the parts."

Luke smiled inwardly. Some people would never change.

"Let's go set off the alarm."

* * *

Mara was halfway up to the bridge when the alarm went off.

She was immediately enveloped by a wave of panic. For a ship-wide breach to occur there must have been a huge explosion, collision, or rupture. If radar had picked up anything significant, she would have been notified. And the ship was in almost-mint condition. Nothing was damaged enough to explode or destroy a large section of the ship. And the computer had checked all of the pipelines, fuel tanks, hyperdrive parts, and any other rupture-susceptible areas.

The panic gradually turned to confusion. What went wrong? There was hardly anything that would push someone to operate that alarm…

She turned and sprinted back towards the interrogation area.

**REVIEW!**

**Next chapter, there's going to be a Luke and Mara duel, of course color commentated by Andover. And, if you have the time, check out my new Anakin/Padmé story, "The Best Thing Ahsoka Ever Did for Him." I think it's going to be pretty good.**

**-ClaptonJr.**

**P.S.: REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Level 11," proclaimed a sign hung on a gray door entering one of the main stairwells.

Luke and Andover ignored it and opened the door, silently passing through the threshold. At the same time, a small contingent of Stormtroopers barreled through from the opposite direction. The two Rebels were nearly flattened.

"Well that was close," Luke said, his voice echoing in the now-empty stairwell.

They began climbing the stairs.

"You should know, I am trained in hand-to hand combat," Andover informed.

"Oh," Luke said, barely interested.

"I was just gonna say if you get caught in a jam, I'm useful."

"Yep," Luke agreed. "You annoy the Imperials to the point where they can't think straight anymore. You know, that is a technique used by both Sith and Jedi called Dun Moch, using distraction and doubt as an offensive mechanism."

"I am an offensive mechanism in general…" Andover agreed.

The two continued walking up the stairs.

"Listen, Luke, wherever we go on this Star Destroyer, I take the lead. You are invaluable to the galaxy. I am expendable, a mere engineer. You, at all costs, must be protected."

"That's why I have this," Luke countered, gesturing to his lightsaber at his hip.

"And I have this," Andover said, tapping the side of his head. "You will stay behind me."

"You're as wanted as me," Luke pointed out. "You are one of the best engineers I know, you leveled a courthouse and killed many important people. You are just as guilty-"

"But worth a lot less."

Sighing, Luke changed the subject.

"You got the mind-reading thing down pretty well," Luke commended.

"Actually, I didn't learn that from your descriptions. There was this old Jedi pamphlet on the downed Cruiser, and I came across it in the wreckage. I didn't know I was force sensitive at the time, but I figured I'd give it a try."

"The Rebels let you keep a recovered piece of sensitive Imperial intelligence?"

"Oh, yeah!" Andover informed, like it was no big deal. "You can keep _whatever you want_ as long as they don't know about it."

Luke smirked, but said nothing. They continued climbing the myriad of stairs. The repulsorlifts fell past them as they climbed, transporting everyone to the escape pods.

In a burst of inspiration, the Jedi soon came up with a plan of attack.

"Andover, what number level joins to the bottom of the bridge?"

"Eighty-eight, I think?"

"Let's split up there. You'll go across and check from the starboard side; I'll look in the port side. We'll meet in the middle, cross, and sweep the level."

Andover looked up thoughtfully. "You're going to have to give me a few minutes on Levels 88 through 90. That's where Star Destroyers house their Intelligence officers and command posts. I want to see what papers I can get my hands on."

"How do you know which level Intelligence is stationed on?" Luke asked, though he felt he probably already knew the answer.

"I told you. They let you keep-"

"Whatever you want if they don't find out," Luke finished for him.

Andover winked. "Precisely."

* * *

"Level 87," Luke announced. "We're almost there."

"Let's split up," Andover suggested. "See who's still here."

"I thought the plan was we work upward and sweep the decks," Luke protested.

"New plan. You go up to the bridge, make sure everything's secure. No self-destruct or anything. You work down, I'll work up. Then, we take this think back to the Hoth system."

* * *

"Sure," Luke complied. There probably wan't anyone left on any of the command levels anyway.

They climbed the last few feet, until they came across a door. It was different from the others. It was white, comprised of unusually thick durasteel, and padded on the outside. "88" was stenciled over a white plate bolted to the front.

It was almost like an airlock, as this vital room was probably airtight in case of emergencies.

Luke looked through the small window. At least a hundred people remained at their posts in this large white room. It had a huge projection of the galaxy on both side walls. People were seated on each side facing the screens. This entrance led to a path that split the room in two, with three lines of holo-consoles on each side. Luke whistled slightly in amazement.

"An airtight room," Andover surmised. "Open the door with the force and follow my lead."

Luke pushed in the door, and he ignited his lightsaber as Andover ran in. Everyone in the Intelligence room was too surprised to react.

"Reach for the stars!" Andover commanded, brandishing his blaster pistol. The Imperials slowly raised their hands.

"That was the worst double entendre I have ever heard," Luke commented as they scanned the crowd.

"You will stop what you are doing NOW!" Andover commanded, waving his hand. He lowered his voice. "Just watch," he whispered. "Arrange yourselves into a single file line on this center pathway!" he commanded the Imperials.

"You will not hurt us in any way," Luke said, using the mind-trick as a safety measure. The guards dropped their weapons and stood at attention, as the grumbling contingent slowly worked its way into a line.

"Who the hell are you two?" an adult woman asked.

"Oh, did we not introduce ourselves? I'm Andover Casimir. I was the one who destroyed the Chandrilian Capital Building. And this is Luke Skywalker. He fired the shot that destroyed the Death Star. And we have just nearly cleansed this beautiful ship of the evil crew inhabiting it. Count yourselves lucky you are not dead and are merely our hostages."

A collective gasp permeated the room.

_Nice, _Luke sent through the force.

_I know!_ Andover replied telepathically. _I should try this on my sister!_

Andover walked over to the woman. She was considerably shorter than his 5 feet 11 inches, and he used that to his advantage.

"Who are _you_?" he asked.

"1st Lieutenant Lyudmila Trut," she responded, unfazed.

He looked at her, intrigued. "If you could pull your nose out of your ass and think about who's the good side in this war, you would be a great Rebel. I'm sure you would be paid well."

"Go piss up a flagpole," she retorted.

Andover smirked. "When Luke and I get this ship back to the Rebel base, I'll try it off the bridge. Is that an okay substitute? If not, I'd be happy to do it on your colleagues here."

Lyudmila opened her mouth, but shut it, unable to come up with a good retort.

"You know, Lt. Trut," Luke said, "I hear Finis Valorum said the same thing. Nothing." He got a high-five from Andover. With the situation under control, Luke left to check the other decks.

Andover went to one of the lockers in the wall, and began applying stun cuffs to people. He put one cuff on someone's left arm, and then connected it to the next person's right side, creating a human chain. The now-captors were slightly unruly, and it was probably because of Andover's caustic put-downs of the Imperial system.

He got a bit bored after a while, and sped up the process. But he stopped when he came to the last un-cuffed Imperial, a redheaded teenage girl. He confidently re-holstered his blaster.

"And who are you?" he asked.

"You don't need to know," she curtly replied.

"Are you related to that Emperor's Hand chick, what's her name…Mary Jane?"

"You mean Mara Jade?"

"Jade! That's the one. Her."

"You could say that," the girl responded. "I _am _Mara Jade."

Andover looked at her curiously, and laughed. "No you're not! She had green eyes. Yours are blue. How dumb do you think I am?" He secured the last stun cuff to her right wrist.

"Dumb enough not to notice my force presence," the real Mara Jade exclaimed coldly, striding forcefully into the command center.

* * *

Luke calmly opened the door to the bridge, and walked onto the central causeway overlooking the crew's pits below him.

Hands behind his back, he stood immediately behind the windowpanes and looked down towards the bow of the ship. The massive frame slowly tapered itself downward. This sleek shape stood for the Empire's true projection of power.

Until the Death Star, which he destroyed.

Luke smirked, remembering how annoyed all of the captured Imperials had been. Their friends, who were not at Yavin, crawled back to ships like this one.

He turned around, strolling back on the catwalk towards the upper level computer consoles at the rear of the bridge. All of the posts had been abandoned in a second, and most of the computer processes were still running. He looked toward the holocommunicators. In the frenzy created by the hull breach alarm, it was left on too. Luke fiddled with the dial, setting it to "Wide Angle-Level 88."

The holoprojector clicked a few times, and a grainy hologram shot up before him. The Emperor's Hand, clad in a black bodysuit, was standing across the room from Andover, holding a blaster in her hand.

Gasping in shock, Luke ran off the bridge toward the staircase.

* * *

Back in the Level 88 control room, you could hear a pin drop. Andover, on the port side of the room, watched Mara Jade walk fully into the room, shutting the door with the force behind her.

He was nervous, but he didn't let it show. He calmly joined his hands, letting them fall near his waist.

"Lieutenant Casimir," Mara greeted, her blaster pointed at his face.

"Mary Jane," Andover replied, purposefully saying the wrong name.

Mara's eyes narrowed to slits again. "It will be _Commander__ Mara Jade_, understand? Thank you."

"You're welcome. No trouble at all," Andover shot back coolly. Some of the Imperial bystanders snickered.

"That's enough out of you," she growled. "You are hardly in the position to be you usual insolent self."

"Should I be in this position?" he asked, vaulting up a small flight of stairs to a higher platform lining the wall. He then pulled his own blaster and shot hers, disabling it.

She dropped the useless weapon and activated her lightsaber.

"No. Reach for the sky, you Rebel scum."

Andover held his pistol in both hands, and pointed it at Mara. She grasped her lightsaber tighter and dropped into a combat stance.

"I don't think that is what I told you to do," she stated.

"It is," Andover sarcastically announced. "I'm pointing to the nearest planet's atmosphere. You just happen to be in the way."

Mara scowled, and jumped up onto the platform on Andover's left. He turned, keeping the blaster pointed at her chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a fake-sweet tone. "I don't see any planets there."

"I see two," Andover countered. "They're under that bodysuit." Infuriated, she let out a force scream and slashed at him. He jumped evasively down onto the main floor.

He smiled. _This Dun Moch thing is fun, _he thought."That lightsaber isn't much of a substitute for the Death Star," Andover remarked. "The planets are still there."

She back-flipped down to a spot between two rows of consoles and attempted a vertical slash at his head. He slid out of the way and fired two blasts, which were expertly deflected by Mara. One of the guards, still standing at attention from Andover's "stand down" order, was hit by the ricocheting bullet and collapsed.

"Nice shot," he remarked dryly, as Mara looked at the Imperial she accidentally killed. His words propelled her into a fury. She repeatedly slashed horizontally and stabbed at his torso. Andover jumped out of the way every time.

"That's strike one. The pitcher winds up…" Mara stabbed at him again.

"Hey batta batta, hey batta batta, hey batta _SWING_ batta!" he mocked, likening her style to an improper shockball technique. Her anger flared again, and Mara continued trying to hurt him.

Andover reached out to Luke, who was running down the stairwell, through the force. Mara, however, noticed and created a force "wall," essentially blocking his transmission. At the same time, she yanked on his blaster with the force, pulling it to her hand.

Everything happened so fast that it seemed to blur. Andover, his blaster moving towards Mara, was unarmed. Instinctively, he used the momentum of Mara's force pull to assist a force push of his own. Just before it landed in Mara's palm, the blaster flew forward and into the garbage chute.

"Unwise," Mara commented."Your mediocre use of the force has left you unarmed."

"Better than you with two weapons," Andover replied. He crouched into a fighting stance, while Mara held her weapon in front of her. Amused, she threw her weapon aside and arranged herself in a similar stance.

"You want hand to hand combat, I'll give you it," Mara complied.

The cuffed line of Imperial personnel moved out of the way.

Andover blocked a swift pattern of strikes by Mara's arms and ducked below a kick. Spinning, he knocked her off her feet with a rotating kick to the calf, and pushed her back. As she slid back, she sent a reverse roundhouse kick into his stomach. He fell to the floor doubled over.

Mara lifted his injured body into the air with the force.

"Nice try," she mocked. With a flick of her hand, she ruthlessly threw him into the wall, hard. His head bounced off of the padding, and Andover fell three feet to the floor.

Mara stood, poised over him, calling her lightsaber back to her hand.

* * *

Meanwhile, Luke could sense that Andover was in trouble. He became worried when the force message was cut off. That either meant he was too injured to finish, or he was being masked by someone far superior in the force. It had to be Mara. That was the only explanation.

He ignored the last few dozen feet, and force-jumped down to the Level 88 landing.

* * *

"This is always the best part," Mara whispered quietly to herself. The Rebel was nearly unconscious at the foot of the wall, and she was about to do a major part in crushing the Rebellion. Once he was gone, he would be no threat to anyone.

She ignited the purple blade…

And it was crossed by a blue one. The Jedi's.

He frowned. "You want to hurt him? You're going to have to go through me."

**Sorry about the wait. But review anyway!**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_"If you want to hurt him," Luke said, "You're going to have to go through me."_

Luke grinned, and spun counter-clockwise as he moved his arms, pushing Mara's lightsaber off to her right. It collided with the wall and severed a section of conduit. The lights flickered, and the room went dark. Then, the red emergency lights turned themselves on, casting an eerie glow throughout the room.

She stopped and swung back, slashing horizontally at his shoulder.

Luke, as he spun, moved his arms above his head and brought the lightsaber down between him and Mara, blade pointing down. She hit his block and he deflected, still spinning. Coming back around, he ducked below her left-to-right spinning slash and tried a stab at Mara's left knee.

Sensing his next move, she back-flipped backward about ten feet as Luke jumped to his feet. This entire exchange lasted barely longer than a second.

"This is the legacy of the Jedi?" Mara mocked.

Luke shook his head. "I'm just getting started." He spun the lightsaber in a circle above his head, and began a graceful kata of spinning slashes and blocks. Mara backed up, stopping his strokes as adeptly as he sent them. The collisions of their weapons flashed sparks through the room.

Their lightsabers collided, each pushing against the other. Mara's came within a foot of her face, its purple blade casting an eerie hue over her face. She smiled.

"Ugghh," Andover moaned from the side, finally coming to.

"I see your friend finally woke up," Mara exclaimed between strokes.

"He's a resilient one," Luke agreed, pulling his lightsaber up to deflect a strike at his face.

"Let's see if he can withstand this," Mara taunted, pummeling Andover with a powerful force-blast. He cried out, and clutched his side in pain. He crumpled up into a ball, slowly losing consciousness.

Luke descended into a fit of rage. He accelerated his speed, viciously threatening Mara with his strikes. She noticed that he was a lot better than the Emperor had given him credit for.

Now, she could see him, this simple farmboy, destroying the Death Star. It was all starting to make sense. He _was_ a true threat to the survival of the Empire.

She sped up her deflections, parrying shots and trying to free up an opening. She jumped onto a console, which Luke cut in half. She fell through, and lost her grip on her lightsaber. It clattered to the floor a few feet away.

She scrambled backward, calling her weapon to her hand with the force.

He attacked with a downstroke wildly, missing Mara both times. By the third attempt, she had activated her lightsaber and blocked his just in time. The stalemate gave Luke enough time to gather his composure and let go of his anger.

They parried shots. Mara's strikes were easier to predict, due to less-specific training. They often followed patterns or katas, usually with a slight variation, but it was simple enough and Luke could easily deflect the few strokes that were actually dangerous.

She spun, and sliced horizontally at his abdomen. He did not deflect the attempted slice, which left Mara off balance. He used the momentum to push her lightsaber far to her left, and with a spin of his wrist, cut her hilt in two.

Mara looked at him, truly scared for the first time in as long as she could remember. Her instincts kicked in, and he grabbed his lightsaber with her now disarmed hand. They struggled for a few moments, until Mara flipped over Luke and stood behind him. She re-grabbed the hilt and began to shake it from his hand. At the same time, she delivered a hard kick to his left calf.

Luke cried out in pain, and fell to the ground. Just before he hit, he turned so his right side hit the deck. With a powerful force blast, he unceremoniously lifted Mara across the room. She landed on a console, shattering it.

Andover, now able to open his eyes, commented on the situation.

"Gee, girl, you broke it! You need to lose some weight!" He smirked, but it turned into a wince, noticing the pain again. Mara used a Force-stasis trick, knocking Andover out and accidentally disabling the senses of the captured crew. They all fell to the ground, seemingly incapacitated.

Luke was thrown to the side wall by the shockwave, and landed behind a console. He, however, was not unconscious. The energy in the shockwave was not sufficient to neutralize his incredible Force-aptitude and he stood back up along the wall.

Mara smiled, looking at Andover. He was in a near-catatonic state, and so was everyone else. She didn't notice that Luke was okay, as the Force Stasis technique had momentarily cloaked his presence.

Luke was smiling, too. One of the things he had learned from recovered Jedi Archival information was that he could harness the Force energy of his opponent and use it as an advantage. He presumed that if you could use it as a weapon, you could use it as a cloaking device. He was right.

Mara's aura permeated the room, and combined with the shockwave, was a decent enough cover. He put on his sabacc face, and force-jumped in front of Mara. She was too surprised to react.

He grabbed her wrists in his hands, and backed her up against the wall. Her arms landed hit first, held in place by his hands. She tried to kick him, but then realized his left leg was twisted across her to prevent any motion.

"Nice try, Emperor's Hand," Luke hissed, with a venomous edge to his words.

Mara was desperate now. She was truly afraid for her life. She sent out three force-stun waves, but Luke donned a force-shield and her attack merely bounced off of him in all directions.

She tried another Force-stasis next. She opened her right hand, her wrist straining in Luke's grasp.

The Force merely rolled off of him like it did for the first time. She tried again, with the same result. He smiled haughtily, and tightened his hold on her forearms.

"Having fun there?" she asked, struggling in Luke's imprisoning hold. With all other options eliminated, she attempted to create a Stasis Field to stop the Jedi.

Palpatine had trained her personally, but he had overlooked some areas of her training. The idea was to keep himself more capable than her, so she would pose a threat to everyone _except_ him. Now, she wished that he had taught her a little more, because she could not remember how to start the field.

She tried, but all she succeeded in doing was another weak Stasis blast. But her force aura was exhausted, and she felt the force within her implode.

Luke sensed it, too. He instantaneously implemented a protection bubble around himself, and it encompassed Mara. The Stasis "misfired" inside the bubble, and had the side effect of momentarily deactivating her own shields.

Then she felt it.

Where Luke was holding her arms, it felt like a lightsaber was stuck through the bone. The pain became excruciating, and the spot began to glimmer. It turned into a visible bright gold orb on her skin, and the pain started moving up her arms.

Luke let go, racking his brain for an explanation. He came up with nothing. Mara felt the pain work its way up her neck.

"What did you do?" she asked. Her senses began to dull, and she felt suddenly lethargic. She cried out in pain, and collapsed unconscious at the base of the wall.

"Hello?" Luke asked, genuinely confused.

Suddenly, Luke felt like he'd been shot in the head. He moved over to the wall and sat against it. Then he passed out too, leaving everyone in the room unconscious.

* * *

When he woke up, he was back in his cell again. The pain in his head had mostly subsided. He groaned.

He heard a voice inside his head, but it wasn't his own. _All right Farmboy, what did you do_? It asked.

Luke blinked. He must be going crazy. Then, the flood of memories hit him. He began to experience things he had never done. It was like someone had invaded his mind.

Nearby on the deck plating, Mara sat watching him curiously. "That was some trick you pulled," she muttered accusingly.

He raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I didn't do anything."

She scowled, but didn't verbally say anything. But Luke could pick out her thoughts.

_Damn rebel. How did he force a mind-meld?_

_I didn't do anything, _he repeated telepathically.

She laughed dryly. "But somehow you can read my thoughts."

The awkwardness was tangible.

"Mrrrrrrgh…" mumbled a voice across the room. Andover, fighting his injuries, had regained consciousness yet again. _How does he survive everything?_ Mara asked herself.

"I told you, he is very resilient," Luke reminded her.

In his own cell, Andover rolled onto his back. "Help," he cried faintly.

"He'll be fine," Mara assured. "The droids put some bacta on him."

As if on cue, he sat up, looking around. He blinked, then went back to scratching the lines on the wall again.

"Is that all he ever does?" Mara asked, annoyed. "It's not like he'll make it through the wall."

"I do plenty of other things," Andover replied, with mock-offense. "I build spaceplanes, and I fight Imperial women with bleeding scalps."

"For the last time, it's my natural hair color!"

"Sure," he said skeptically, working on the paint.

**Sorry for taking so long. I've been busy. I know, a lame excuse. But hey, at least I posted the chapter.**

**REVIEW!**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"That was a hell of a trick you pulled," Mara commented, as Luke sat meditating back in his cell while Andover, now somewhat healed, kept scratching the wall. The line had turned into a polygon 3-feet by 3-feet square and the lines had progressed to about three inches thick.

"What, no sarcastic remarks from the guy who fended me off without a weapon, or his Jedi friend who forced a mind-meld on me?"

Andover sighed. "Concerning the point addressed to me, you're probably more skilled with those planets than you are your lightsaber," he affronted, alluding to his earlier Dun Moch statement.

"Big talk from a guy who sits around scratching a wall."

Undaunted and ignoring the pain, he continued scratching.

Meanwhile, Luke concentrated on his meditation. He had searched through his mind and the minds of others using the Force but had yet to come to a logical conclusion. The only force-bonds he knew of were those between relatives, married couples, and Masters/Padawans.

_It just doesn't make sense, _he thought.

_Like you and your unorthodox tactics,_ Mara telepathically remarked. _Some sick trick you pulled. Now sever this bond and get out of my head._

_I didn't purposefully create this bond_, Luke reminded her. _In fact, you were the one that lowered you're mental shields enough for the bond to take hold._

_Technicalities, _Mara thought, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

"Aww, the silent lovers' quarrel," Andover remarked.

Mara ignored him. "You two are lucky," she said. "The entire crew was in hyperspace before I could call them back. But I guarantee you this-you're going to have a long ride home." She enunciated some of the words for emphasis.

"Same thing my school district's airtrain driver said," Andover announced, "but I made it this far."

Disgusted with him completely, she scowled and left the room.

"Quickly, use the Force," Andover urged, the second he could no longer hear her footsteps. "This could be our only chance; strip the paint on your wall in a square you can fit through. Make the lines three inches thick."

Concealing his use of the Force, he silently removed the paint with his mind. Then he saw Andover remove the white pin from his pocket. Smiling, he struck the red square on the wall with the head of the pin, and the paint instantly ignited.

A searing white light pierced their eyes. In a half minute, however, it dimmed and slowly disappeared. In the place of the thermite square was a hole in the wall, leading a random corridor on the Star Destroyer.

Freedom.

"Here!" the younger Rebel cried, tossing the pin over to Luke, who hit his square too. But unlike the first time, it didn't start a fire.

"It won't work!" Luke stated, anxiety creeping into his voice.

"Use the force, then!" Andover told him.

"I can't conceal that big of an effort in the Force," Luke groaned. "I'm not that good yet."

"Who cares? We aren't gonna be on this flying shitpile much longer!" Spurred on by Andover's idea, he ignited the wall. Andover walked through the hole in his cell, and paced around on the other side.

_What are you doing, Jedi?_ Mara cried through the Force.

_My friend and I,_ he answered, _well, we work together like a spark and some aluminum powder mixed with iron-rich paint._

_You didn't,_ she seethed, fury emanating through the local Force.

_Kindly give my regards to Palpatine and Vader, _Luke cordially sent and ended the conversation. He could pick up some of Mara's malicious thoughts, however.

_Now, that isn't nice,_ he sent after extracting an extremely violent thought from her mind.

_Damn you, farmboy, _she said.

The fire stopped and burnt out when it reached the paint-free zone. Luke stepped through the hole, and Andover gestured for Luke to follow him.

"She knows about our escape," Luke informed. Andover knew exactly what he meant.

"Why?" he asked, despair in his tone.

"Hey, I didn't do anything," Luke defended.

"Sure. You know, if we weren't on an Imperial ship running for our lives, I would make a killer 'that's what she said' line right now."

Luke shook his head. For a war criminal, Andover was surprisingly juvenile.

"Do you have any idea where our ship is?" Luke asked hesitantly.

"We docked on the port side, rear-lower levels."

"Anything more specific?"

"Nope."

They slowly made their way to one of the side lifts. Andover hit the button labeled "Docking Bays" and the enclosed room slowly descended.

"If anyone told me a week ago that this would happen, surely I would have taken them to a mental ward," Andover said to no one in particular.

"Truth is stranger than fiction."

"I guess so. But imperials are strangest."

Luke nodded. A flashing digital display on the wall showed the level numbers slowly decrease. Then the display beeped, and the doors opened.

"Here we are," his counterpart said, as they followed the signs to the side of the ship.

They turned a corner, and faced the wide-open entrance to the connected hangars. There stood Mara Jade, hands on her hips, looking smugly back at the Rebels.

"Fancy meeting you here," Andover tried, putting on a faux Coruscanti accent for the effect.

"Shut up," Mara replied coldly. Luke noticed his father's lightsaber on her belt, and a red haze descended over his head. He ripped the weapon from her belt and calling it to his hand, ignited it in a half-second.

Mara drew her own lightsaber, and the two stood still, waiting for the other to attack.

Suddenly, Andover ran at Mara, ducking below her strike, and sprinted towards his plane. Mara turned her attention back to the Jedi, who calmly rotated his lightsaber in a circle and assumed a Soresu style approach.

"What the hell are you doing?" Andover yelled from the cockpit of the airplane as the steady hum of repulsors lifted him from the floor.

"I'll be fine," Luke exclaimed, blocking a slash at his head.

"No you won't!" With that, Andover vaulted over the side of his plane and joined the fight. He pulled a blaster from his pocket and fired at Mara. In between parries with Luke, she managed to step out of the way of the blaster bolts. She jumped back, and called the gun to her hand. She fired, and the bolt hit Andover right in the stomach. He cried out in pain and collapsed, dead.

But Mara was distracted, and Luke took advantage of it. He ran to the glistening Nicomedia and force-jumped in, locking the canopy, and flew out into space.

_Coward,_ Mara gloated telepathically. _At least your friend got what was coming to him._

_But I'm fine,_ Luke reminded her, feeling guilty about how he had taken advantage of teh moment and left hsi friend's body.

_Hopefully not for long. I assure you, your buddy will receive a proper cremation._

Luke rubbed his head in exhaustion, and turned the plane towards the Hoth system.

* * *

(A week later)

"So he's dead, huh?" Wedge asked sympathetically, sitting in the mess hall with his friends. "Sorry."

"I sure bet Mara's happy," Han commented. Leia shot him a withering glare.

Luke remembered something. "A file in his plane came up when the computer recognized he wasn't flying. It said that if Andover was hurt or killed, the plane was supposed to be given to his sister."

"Who cares?" Leia asked. "He's dead. It's the property of the Alliance now."

"He saved my life," Luke reminded her. "Me, the last Jedi. I believe he deserves enough respect to get his death wish."

"He'd probably say his death wish was to not get killed," Wes cut in.

Luke sighed, looking at a letter which was laid on the table by one of the ensigns. It was the letter that would inform Andover's sister that her sibling was killed in action.

The last thing anyone would want to get in the mail.

He excused himself, citing the need to meditate. When he got to his quarters, he found a large crate on the floor. It hadn't been there when he left for dinner. Notes of "Live Animal" and signs pointing "This way up!" adorned the plywood. Through the breathing holes on the top, Luke could hear muffled, muted attempts to scream. Sighing, he read the note taped to the top.

_-From Andover Casimir-_

Luke's jaw dropped. He unfolded the piece of paper, and read.

* * *

_If you're reading this, I have probably been killed by now. That's what everyone thinks, right?_

* * *

Luke frowned, but read on.

* * *

_Dumbass. I never get killed._

* * *

He visibly smarted. That was Andover, all right. He was alive!

* * *

_Listen, I'm back in Liezden if you or Leia need me. I figure that I've had enough of war; my dreams of wartime heroism and grandeur were destroyed in my capture. While I recover from my injuries, I thought you should know that helping out the rebels, even momentarily, was the best thing I have ever done in my life. It's the first time I can say that I honestly helped someone. Not anyone, but the last Jedi and only hope for freedom in the Galaxy._

_What a way to go, right?_

_I just wrote to say that I survived, if only barely. Those healing techniques really helped._

_I know that I will probably never see that Emperor's hand again, whose hair is probably still "bleeding". But I bet that you two will cross paths sometime soon. How is that relevant to this present? It's a note to remind you; you can do anything you want with a suckerpunch, a tranquilizer dart, and human ingenuity. You'll soon know what I mean._

_Take care, Luke. May the Force be with you._

_-1__st__ Lieutenant Andover Casimir_

_P.S. Check the Chandrilian news. I did something to help you further. It definitely "left an impression"._

* * *

Luke picked a datapad off of his bed, and searched "Chandrila." Of the icons, one was from the Imperial News Center. He clicked on it, to see a large burning crater in the middle of a picturesque natural landscape. He couldn't make out any details, because heavy smoke hindered the camera's view.

_ "This just in, an Independence-class star destroyer apparently lost control and fell from orbit onto the planet Chandrila's Imperial headquarters," a voice informed. "The base was obliterated, with an estimated fifteen thousand Imperials dead. Many suspect a Rebel attack or sabotage."_

_Wow! He freed his system!_ Luke realized. He called Leia on her comlink.

"Call all squadron leaders to the briefing room," he ordered when she picked up.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, we're going to Chandrila."

"Okay," she said, turning off her comlink.

Luke's eyes drifted to the crate still sitting in the middle of his room. Sighing, he walked over to it and looked in the top. Whatever the animal was-if it actually was actually an animal, it was pretty big, and had scarlet-red fur.

He maneuvered tha cage into the corner of the room. The sudden movement prompted the inhabitant to continue its muted protests. Luke set up a force-barrier around the crate, and pried open one side of the box with the Force from about ten feet away.

The plywood side fell down with a resounding crack.

Luke looked inside. It was a woman. She had red hair, and was curled against the opposite wall.

_It's Mara Jade_, he realized. She had her feet tied together, her hands stun-cuffed behind her back, and she was dressed in a skimpy metal slave-girl outfit. A leather strip was tied around her mouth and knotted behind her head, preventing speech. Her eyes went wide when she noticed him.

_I am going to kill you, _Mara thought, projecting her emotions. _Then I'll get that miserable Chandrilian. Nobody can beat me in a fight and do this to me while getting away with it._

_After all he did for me, I can't let you hurt him, _Luke told her silently. He then mentally kicked himself, realizing how perverted that sounded.

Mara just shook her head. _Damn you, farmboy._

**Ohh, Andover lived. He must have incapacitated Mara, or at least her dignity. I thought that was a good way to write him off.**

**That's ten chapters! And Mara's on Hoth now! Oh, the plot bunnies!**

**And please, don't forget to review. Thanks.**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

After a moment of hesitation, Luke moved behind her to take off the speech-hindering leather. His movement brought more muted yells and screams from Mara.

Fully behind her, he noticed something written above her right shoulder blade. He lifted her hair out of the way, prompting a hindered attempt to get away.

"It's all right," Luke soothed, continuing to read.

_I knew you two would run into each other again, see?_

_Enjoy!_

_- Andover._

Her hair fell back over the message, while Luke unknotted the strap. The leather band fell to the floor.

"What was that for?" Mara cried indignantly, once the muter was off. "I am not to be violated! Touch me, you'll sing soprano for the rest of your life!"

"I wasn't doing anything," he defended. "Andover wrote a message in permanent marker on your back. I was just reading."

Her eyes went wide. _As soon as I get out of here, he is DEAD,_ she thought.

He easily read her thoughts. "First of all, you probably aren't going to be free for a while, considering your history. And you'll never find him."

"Overconfidence brought the Jedi Order down once, I'm sure it will happen again," she snapped. "And tell your friends, I am not to be used as paper."

He smiled inwardly, trying to look away from her form. The black bodysuit really didn't do her justice.

"Stop looking at me like that," Mara grumbled.

_It was hard not to, _Luke thought.

"You do realize I can hear what you are thinking, right?" Mara asked. "I don't know If you forced this Force-bonding or not, but I don't want you thinking anything like that while I can read your thoughts. Understand?"

He nodded.

"And get me out of this costume!" Mara ordered.

"I suggest you rephrase that," Luke commented.

Mara blushed ever-so-slightly, but soon re-donned her sabacc face.

"I still wonder how the Emperor's Hand got herself into this situation," he prompted.

"Your idiot friend sucker-punched me and then shot me with a tranquilizer," she growled.

"Idiot?" Luke asked, trying not to laugh. "Look what he did to you. I'd say he's very smart."

Again, Luke could feel the onslaught of violent thoughts in Mara's mind. "I'm not _that _bad, am I? It's not like I was the one who put you in that costume."

"You're his friend and accomplice. Guilt by association," she informed.

"Really? The Emperor personally taught you all your tricks. By that logic, I should kill you here and now."

Mara looked back at him evenly.

Sighing, Luke lifted her into the air and immobilized her with the force. Noticing a key on top of the crate, he unlocked the cuffs on Mara's wrists. Ending her immobilization, he held out a Jedi robe, which she grudgingly accepted. Picking the leather band off of the floor, she tied it around her waist.

"Why didn't you leave me immobilized?" she asked, ignoring the scratchy wool robe.

"Here, without a weapon, you pose no threat," Luke explained.

"You'd be wrong!" she shrieked, suddenly throwing a punch at his face. He ducked, agilely grabbing her right forearm and sliding behind her.

"With the Force helping me, you will find that I am correct more often than you guess," he announced, attaching the cuff to her wrist. He then wrapped it behind a vertical pipe in the room, and attached the end to her other forearm.

"I suggest you do not attempt any escapes," Luke advised. "Here, we don't paint walls with thermite."

With that, he left the room, locking the door to his quarters behind him.

* * *

"Commander Skywalker!" Wes greeted as Luke entered the briefing room.

"Hello, Wes," he addressed wearily, plopping down on one of the reserved chairs.

"What's the matter?" Tycho Celchu asked. "Still sad about Lt. Casimir?"

"Not so much him," Luke answered. "More like his quote-unquote 'present'."

"You got to keep his plane?" Wes asked in disbelief.

"No, but I got to 'keep' one of his 'war prizes'."

Wes furrowed his brow. "I don't follow."

"You can't tell this to anybody," Luke whispered, leaning closer, "but he lived. He somehow got up, beat the Emperors Hand in a fight, sent me a crate, and then went home to Chandrila."

"Hmm," Tycho thought about that for a second. "What was in the crate?"

Luke held his head in his hands. "Mara Jade in a slave girl outfit."

Wes sputtered, and Tycho laughed audibly.

"I always knew something was up with him," the latter said.

"Who knew he could turn Imperial assassins into Rebel courtesans?" Wes asked, a little too loudly. Half of the people in the briefing room looked over curiously at the three.

"Quiet!" Luke whispered, ignoring the piercing gazes of the Rebels gathered.

"Awful nice of him. He let you keep the best part of the ship," Tycho quipped.

Luke held his head in his hands. "I'm begging you, please stop talking."

Wes opened his mouth, ready to comment further, but Luke shot him the meanest glare a farm boy from Tatooine could make. It worked, though, and Wes and Tycho shut up.

"Hello, Luke," Leia greeted, standing over him. He nodded, and walked to the center of the room.

"Commander Skywalker, why are we here?" one of the pilots asked.

"I recently received information that suggests Lt. Casimir is alive," he began. "He escaped from the Star Destroyer over his home planet of Chandrila after defeating one of the Emperor's assassins, Mara Jade. It crashed into the Imperial base, destroying both the ship and the buildings."

The gathered pilots looked at each other, impressed. Luke kept talking. "Few Imperial troops are left in the system. Shouldn't we take action before reinforcements arrive?"

"How about an invasion?" Ackbar suggested, always militant. "Due to this serendipitous occurrence, I propose we attack the system to further rid it of Imperial presence."

* * *

Mara looked at the pipe she was cuffed too. It was durasteel, so she couldn't break it. Luke cleverly joined her hands around the pipe, almost as if she was hugging it. Low on options, she looked at the ceiling.

The support pipe was joined to the ceiling, but not permanently. As the base was still partially being finished, it was not bolted to the ceiling. The ceiling itself was just light, porous tile, like in a middle class house. Using the force, she pushed the ceiling upward. Then she jumped, sliding her hands over the top of the pipe near the binding attacking it to the roof.

She was no longer chained.

Mara looked around the room. Against the back wall, the key to her stun cuffs sat on the top of her crate. She called it to her hand with the Force, and unlocked the metal circles on her hands.

She frowned, noticing the red marks on her wrists. They would wear off in time.

She wondered what Emperor Palpatine was doing right now. Reaching out with the Force, she tried to contact him. She found nothing. In place of the bond with her Master, was a similar connection to Luke. She groaned in annoyance. Try as she might, she could no longer get in touch with Palpatine.

She strained her force aura to pick up any signal, but because of Luke's mind meld her connection with Palpatine had become too weak. She tried again, but could only pick up snippets of Palpatine's thoughts. It seemed like they weren't meant for her, but she could still sense the command:

_"You will kill Luke Skywalker."_

_No problem there, _Mara thought. Securing the leather strap around her waist, she opened the door. Using the Force as guidance, she turned right.

"Excuse me!" exclaimed a guard, coming from behind her. "I haven't seen you around here. I need to see your identification."

She pretended to reach into one of her pockets. "Miss…" the guard prompted.

Mara suddenly delivered a reverse-roundhouse kick to his chest, throwing him five feet backward into the bulkhead. He looked up at her, dazed.

"Here it is!" she mocked, with fake sweetness in her voice. She grabbed the guard's ID card, and punched him in the face, knocking him out. Searching him, she took a blaster pistol and a set of keys.

Turning away from her victim, she continued towards her destination.

* * *

(Back in the briefing room)

"Such a large scale attack on the entire system is too risky," Mon Mothma began. "As much as I wish to fully liberate my homeworld, I am afraid that cannot be done yet."

"Maybe not," Leia said. "The system is nearly devoid of all Imperial militarists. I suggest a full-scale attack."

"What about Andover?" Han asked, relaxing at one of the tables. "We don't have to pick him up, do we?"

"Probably not," Leia said. "His injuries are probably severe. When he is healthy enough, he will most likely come back to Hoth."

Luke watched as Leia, Admiral Ackbar, and Mon Mothma discussed the feasibility of an attack, completely ignoring everyone else in the room.

"Hello?" Han muttered loudly. "What about Rebel policy? We attack the Imperials whenever we have an advantage. I think, Miss Mothma, you would be the first to jump at the chance."

Mon opened her mouth to say something in response, but closed it soon after.

"I wasn't calling a war meeting," Luke reminded them. "I was just here to inform you of the situation."

"My home planet is an agriworld," Mon Mothma explained. "It produces food for much of the Core. We cannot blockade it or we would risk great anti-Rebel sentiment."

"If we don't blockade it we've already lost," Leia pointed out. "There's no way we could keep the Imperials off the surface."

"An attack would pressure other Imperial worlds and disrupt their economies," Ackbar said. He turned to Luke. "We will put together an attack profile in the morning," he decreed, like the issue had already been decided.

The pilots stood up, but sat back down on Mon Mothma's command. "The issue has not been decided," she announced stubbornly.

"I agree," Mara muttered, jumping through the doorway. She grabbed the first pilot on her right around his neck, who happened to be Dak, and held her blaster to his temple. "Anyone moves, he dies," she coldly told the guards.

"Let go of me! I don't want to die… Help!" Dak begged, uncharacteristically letting off a whine.

Nobody moved to help him. Most of the Rebels were frozen in fear, and the ones nearest to Mara were curled on the floor covering their heads.

Suddenly, her neck began to feel very hot. Luke, who happened to be standing immediately to her left, ignited his lightsaber and held it threateningly an inch below her chin. She turned to see him watching her with a slight amount of amusement.

"Go ahead," he challenged. "Make my day."

She hesitated, and Luke slid his weapon closer to her neck. "I don't want to kill you, Mara," he reasoned. Realizing who she was, the bystanders shrunk back in fear. "Let go of my friend."

"Why should I?" she asked, knowing her disadvantage.

"Let me quote you talking about Andover: 'You are hardly in the position to be your usual insolent self.'"

"Nobody cares about that pilot; just let me go!" Dak cried, struggling. Mara tightened her grasp on his neck.

Luke frowned. "Unlike on the Star Destroyer, Mara, you are in mortal danger here. It would be wise to cooperate. Andover took a blaster shot to let me escape. I think, as his friend, I know the definition of true peril."

_I am not in mortal danger_, Mara sent.

_Yet here you are_, Luke mused.

_Let me out of this base, and you will never hear from me again_, she bargained.

"You are hardly in the position to negotiate," he spoke aloud again.

"What could you possibly do without me killing your comrade?" she taunted, relaxing her grip on the blaster.

Luke smirked, and using the force, ripped the cloak she was wearing in half. The top part of it fell down as a sort of skirt held by the leather band, while exposing her very-revealing costume.

Mara gasped, furious. A series of murmurs and collective whispering passed through the room. She glared at Luke, who was biting his bottom lip in an effort to contain his laughter at the situation.

"I'll kill you for this, farmboy," she said, unusually calm. She threw Dak to the floor, and began shooting at Luke.

All of his possible options floated through his mind as he deflected every shot into the wall, away from his fellow pilots. Selecting his favorite idea, he angled a shot back at her chest. It impacted the decorative chain holding the halves of her bikini together. It melted, and the halves separated.

She momentarily stopped firing, bringing her right hand to her chest in an effort to keep her modesty. Like he did before, Luke took advantage of her distraction. Before she realized what was happening, he was pinning her, crossing a leg over her thighs and holding her down by her biceps.

Almost everybody was still frozen, slightly fearful and amazed at the fight they just watched. The individuals on the floor cautiously rose, as those standing relaxed slightly.

"So that's Mara," Han comprehended.

* * *

(Later)

Luke stood guard near the door of the interrogation chamber that Andover was once interrogated in. Instead of an insolent seventeen-year old strapped to the main chair, Mara Jade struggled to free herself from her bonds.

His holo on his wrist began to beep. He activated it, and stared eye-to-eye with a shimmering blue Andover, sitting in the cockpit of a TIE.

"How'd you get onto the holo?" Luke hissed, frowning.

"My flight computer. Listen, I'm orbiting my planet so I can send this, gotta make it short and sweet. D'ya get my present?"

"Yes," the Jedi groaned.

"Nice. She cause any trouble?"

"A little," he admitted. "She got Dak in a choke hold and threatened his life."

Now it was Andover's turn to frown. "She came handcuffed for a reason."

"Not funny." Luke said. His friend simply shook his head, laughing. Luke frowned, exasperated.

"If I don't laugh, I'm gonna cry," Andover wheezed out between chuckles. "Oh, shit." Luke could sense the craft rolling. "Luke! TIEs! Over a dozen of them, what do I do?"

Closing his eyes, Luke projected a force-blast through his holo, across the space-lanes, to the endangered pilot. Andover's less-adept force aura couldn't contain the blast, and it overloaded. The resulting shockwave resounded like a bomb; most of the nearby TIEs were ripped to shreds.

"Whew! Thanks!" Andover said, flipping around and picking off the last few fighters.

"Can I turn this off now?" Luke asked.

"Almost, yeah," Andover said, firing one of the laser cannons and blowing up the last surviving TIE. "I think I TIE-d them up nicely," he joked. "Now, where are Organa and Mothma?"

"They're both in the interrogation room with Mara."

"I want to talk with them. Take me there, please."

Luke rolled his eyes, and walked in the door.

"I'm not going to tell you anything," he heard Mara say, as he shut the door behind him.

"We know you're an Emperor's Hand, Miss Jade," Mon Mothma pushed.

"Hey, Palps's Hand is here?" Andover asked, looking around his own display.

"Word spreads pretty quick," she shot back.

"As quickly as you in that slave costume?"

"Why, you miserable…" she began, trying to break the metal sheets around her wrists.

Andover interrupted her, loudly humming as he pointedly ignored his holo. "I must commend your associates, Mara. So far two other Emperor's Hands have tried to kill me in this past week. But, alas, they are no match for an Emperor's Pain in the Ass."

"Of course, that's your official title," Leia remarked, momentarily looking away from Mara.

Mara stopped dead. The color drained from her face. "What?" she asked weakly.

"Yup, all dead," Andover continued. "There was this guy, Maarek Stele, he just got his ass shot out from under him. He has been following me for the past four days. And this other guy, Vess Kogo, was killed in an 'industrial accident'."

"Other hands?" she repeated, in a state of shock.

"From the number of people who have revealed their title to me while shooting at my face, it seems likely," Andover said. "Now listen, Leia, Mon, I nearly freed a system for you people. When are your fleets gonna come?"

"As of now, we aren't sure they will," Leia informed.

"What?" Andover cried, "Why?"

"We can't risk a blockade on an agriworld," Mon Mothma explained.

"But it's our homeworld! Remember, when I pulled you out of your burning house! You thanked me! You told me we were both doing our duty to free our planet!"

"We can't risk it," she repeated. Frustrated, he slammed his fist off the side panel.

"Listen, we are trying to restore democracy," Andover seethed. "Not bureaucracy. If you want to restore things to how they were _exactly _during the Clone Wars, I will _never _fight for you again. I thought we were trying to restore the Republic… You know what, I get it. Kriff you, Mothma…"

Luke shut off his holo before anything else could be said, while Leia and Mon's jaws nearly fell to the floor.

"He lied to me," Mara whispered, though only Luke was really listening. "Palpatine lied. This whole time."

"Of course he did," Leia said. "He's lied to everybody for years."

_The Jedi weren't traitors,_ Luke sent. _He is a Sith. He exterminated them._

"He told me…I was the only one," Mara continued, nearly oblivious to Luke's telepathic comment. "His hand. _The _Emperor's Hand. His weapon of choice. That miserable, under-handed, lying…"

"Sith," Luke finished for her, crossing his arms.

"Let me fight in the Alliance," she said suddenly, with determination. "I want to kill him. I have to."

**Sorry for the long hiatus. At least, that was a really fun chapter to write.**

**Yes, I took "Go ahead, make my day" from Dirty Harry. But it seemed a fitting threat, and a good way to waste a line. So no flames, please.**

**And Mara turned! I read on Wookiepedia she was furious when she found out about her counterparts. So, I made a version of that here.**

**As always, REVIEW! My other Star Wars story has three times the reviews, and this one is just as good. At least, maybe it is. What are your thoughts? For those who missed it, that was a prompt.**

**Also, future updates will be spread out a bit. I am back in school, so that will take precedence to FanFiction. Sorry.**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

**In answer to some spoken/unspoken questions:**

**1. The telepathic "command" Mara overheard (to kill Luke) was not meant for her. Through whatever infinitely-small tendril from her old Force-bond with Palpatine, she picked up him ordering someone else. Who? That's coming later.**

**2. A few chapters back, I established the Empire had intelligence on both Luke and Andover. Thus, the Emperor knew (at least to a degree) about both of them. Destroying one of his ships in an attempt to escape, along with wrecking a Force-bond with one of his Hands, would surely put them back on the Emperor's "Must Kill" List.**

**3. And, if you are confused, the Emperor was not dying when he sent that message, unlike in the regular EU. He was just pretty pissed when he heard about the incidents detailed in the past few chapters, and was ordering someone to ****_fix_**** it.**

**So, yeah.**

(A week after the previous chapter)

Luke scratched his head, re-re-re-reading all of the information on Force-bonding the Alliance had. There wasn't much. A few Alliance documents recovered, and some information from the Old Order's dead fugitive Padawan, Ferus Olin. But nothing really explained an _involuntary bond._ As far as he could tell, this was the only such case of this happening.

Bonds usually took years to form, and could only materialize when masters/apprentices or equals associated themselves mentally. You also needed to have the innate Force-ability to form connections through the Force.

But the Force doing it, voluntarily, without any human instigation, was unheard of.

Rubbing his temples lightly, he randomly picked up one of the articles on his desk. Reading the title, he saw it was about Bastila Shan's battle meditation techniques.

Though it could be sent out to influence others, and in some cases even leave imprints on affected minds, it was still initiated by a being.

Sighing, he picked up another sheet. He perused it quickly, and found nothing important. Within a few seconds, it was back in the pile.

A note, at the bottom corner of a document on his left, caught his eye. He read it.

"Many Jedi did not fully form such connections because of their discipline, because they were forbidden to open their lives to the passions around them, and therefore few of them even realized the extent to which it was possible."

Luke pulled out the sheet, but the rest of the space above it was mysteriously blank. It was probably because when the information was captured, the footnote was all that was decrypted.

Yawning, he sat back in his chair.

Leia came up behind him. In his tired state, Luke didn't even notice her until she spoke.

"Luke, are you okay? it's nearly midnight. Lights out was an hour ago."

"What?" he asked, jolting awake. "Oh, um, yeah." He stifled another yawn.

Leia continued. "Ackbar put together the invasion plans. Limited severely, by Mon, of course. But we attack in two days. Isard censored the Chandrilian incident almost immediately, so few know about it."

"That's good." Luke grabbed another article, and Leia left the room.

Nothing here told him anything significant. Sighing in annoyance, he closed his eyes in an effort to relax.

Then, Mara was talking to him through their bond again. _Why am I still in the holding cell?_ she asked indignantly.

_Andover was an anti-Imperial hero even before he joined,_ Luke reasoned. _They still kept him from flying for over two months._

_So I'm stuck here, _she complained.

_You could always go back to Palpatine," _Luke suggested, pointedly hitting a nerve.

_NEVER! _she retorted.

_Do you need to talk about it? _He inquired. Mara paused, unsure how to continue. He assumed that meant yes, and Luke put away the papers and left.

* * *

"Hello," he greeted, quietly opening the door to Mara's temporary room. She looked up coldly from one of the seats as he sat down nearby.

"I didn't ask for somebody to talk to," she elaborated, turning around in her chair away from him.

" Your projecting suggests the opposite," he said. She frowned, spinning back and glaring at him.

"Of course I'm upset," Mara growled icily. "I spent my life in his service. He told me I was the daughter he never had. And to think I was just a tool." She gestured with her hand. "How long until they let me fight?"

"Probably at least a week. Not as long as Andover, anyway."

"Why'd they ground him for so long?"

"I think Leia, when they first met, thought he was a terrorist."

Mara chuckled. "I guess she and I have something in common after all."

* * *

Shira Brie was excited. This mission would be the culmination of her years of training as an Emperor's Hand. She was unaware of other Hands' existence, so this was an even more important task for her.

A week prior, during a mission in the Mid-Rim, the Emperor had contacted her telepathically. She had been commanded to do the impossible. He said:

_"You will kill Luke Skywalker." _

Shira could tell he was angry, even for a Sith. He was projecting in such a way that anyone with even the most basic connection to him could pick up the command.

Later that day, (still a week ago) she received a hologram from him.

_(Flashback)_

_She knelt in front of the screen in her personal shuttle. "What is it, my lord?" she asked._

_Palpatine was silent for a moment. Dreadfully silent. _

_"Your highness?"_

_He spoke in his usual raspy hiss. "Go to Chandrila, my loyal hand. Luke Skywalker will soon arrive. I have foreseen it."_

_"Understood, sir."_

_He paused again. "If there is anyone with him, kill them."_

_(End flashback)_

Originally, she was confused. Every Imperial in the galaxy had dedicated the past two years of their life to finding Luke. But after hearing about Chandrila, she knew.

That lucky pilot who had destroyed the base was still there. The second the Rebel fleet would arrive, the Imperial Navy would pounce. Meanwhile, Luke would be fighting on the surface to extract the pilot and try and remove the rest of the Imperials.

Recently, she felt three major surges in the force. One felt like a conversion; switching sides in the Force left shockwaves regardless of the situation. Another felt like a magnification of Force ability, such as training. Apparently, the surviving Jedi traitors were on the rise.

She also felt another ripple, smaller than the first two. It occurred soon after the Force-transition, and felt very similar to the first magnification, almost as if it was an after-effect. The two disturbances, she noted, felt very similar due to related force-auras, possibly stemming from siblings.

Regardless of what it was, the Force felt different lately. The Light Side had undergone a resurgence, and Shira believed it was her job to fix it.

So she sat in the cockpit of her Imperial shuttle, watching stars streak past her vehicle. Soon, she'd be on Chandrila, and the Rebels wouldn't know what hit them.

* * *

Andover tapped his fingers on his desk impatiently. The computer screen, projected onto the wall in front of him, had been frozen for fifteen minutes.

"Avvie!" he yelled.

His twin sister Avramova stuck her head through the doorway. "Mm hmm?" she asked.

"You were right, I can't get into the Alliance networks from here."

She laughed. "Of course you can't." With that, Avramova left the room, and Andover rubbed his temples.

Since he practically staggered through his own doorway a few days ago, he had been trying to authorize the liberation of his planet through the Rebels' computer systems. He surmised that if they weren't here yet, they probably wouldn't come.

His sister was less than helpful. All she did since he came home was throw him an icepack for his wounds. He wasn't fully healed, then, and was unable to catch it. It hit him in the stomach. Hard.

Suddenly, the computer's speakers began to beep, and hundreds of lines of coding flashed on the screen.

_I'm in! _he thought excitedly. _Might as well modify a few more things while I'm at it…_

He clicked on one of the encrypted folders and began reading.

* * *

(The next standard day, Hoth)

Luke sipped his cup of caf, reading the daily briefing on his datapad. Having read everything, he turned it off and set it back down on the table.

In the distance, Han was in the middle of a colorful debate with Wedge about something.

Luke observed them for a minute, then went back to his caf. Meanwhile, Mara walked into the room. Scanning the tables, she found Luke and headed towards him.

"Guess what, Farmboy?" she asked brightly, now directly behind him. He turned around, and she continued. "The computers cleared me today. I'll get assigned soon."

"Good!" he replied enthusiastically. "That was quick."

Mara sat down across from him. "I know. I bet your friend Lt. Casimir is up to his old tricks again."

Luke smiled. "It wouldn't surprise me."

A buzzer on the wall sounded three times, the signal for all pilots to go to the briefing room. A few dozen people stood up around the cafeteria, Mara included. They slowly filed through the doorway at the end of the room.

Five minutes later, they were all in their seats. Upon Luke's suggestion, Mara sat next to him as this was her first briefing.

Leia, who was analyzing a computer display, seemed extremely confused. For a while, she didn't even seem to notice the forty-some Rebel pilots looking at her expectantly.

"Well?" Han prompted, standing near the doorway.

"Uh," Leia turned around, noticing the crowd, "It seems that Mon Mothma, currently on her way to forge an alliance with an Outer Rim planet, has had a change of heart. We received a signal from her ship telling us to liberate Chandrila immediately."

This piqued everyone's, specifically Admiral Ackbar's, attention.

_Andover did this?_ Mara asked silently. Luke nodded.

"Furthermore," Leia continued, still looking at the screen, "she personally orders Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade to lead the landing parties." She turned towards them. "She must have a great deal of confidence in you two."

Luke smiled inwardly. _Definitely Andover._

**Sorry for the long wait. Next chapter: the invasion.**

**REVIEW!**

**-ClaptonJr.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"You _what?"_ Avramova screamed at her brother. He cowered away as she continued ranting. "That is the most retarded thing you have ever done! Are you usually this stupid, or are you trying especially hard today?"

Andover looked up weakly. She kept yelling. "You basically told the Rebels to attack this planet! People are going to _die_ because of you! There is probably a reason they didn't sweep the system!"

"Bureaucracy?" he remarked. "Procrastination? Fear?"

Avramova glared daggers at him.

Andover defended himself. "All I'm saying is that if nobody was going to give the incentive, why shouldn't I? You want this planet freed as much as I do." She ran a hand through her hair as he continued. "This is the Bormea Sector. If you control it, not only have you freed a major agriworld and strategic extension into the Core, but you have Brentaal IV. It sits on both the Hydian Way and the Perlemian Trade Route. This is going to be the most significant thing the Alliance has ever done; this is going to be more significant than _YAVIN."_

She looked at him dubiously. "You better know what you're doing."

He frowned, offended. "_You_ seriously think I would try to destroy my own planet?"

"Do you remember sixth grade?"

His eyes narrowed. "You were stupid then too!" Avramova was about to slap him. He continued, "I'm going to fly with the Rouges again. If you doubt my plan, why don't you come along? We could take the _Belvedere_ and the _Astris_."

Andover could sense her annoyed bemusement even without the help of the Force. "I have been telling you since we were fourteen; I am NOT going to fly in one of your fatuous spacecraft. You haven't even tested those two yet! And the tests don't help. In the Nicomedia's first four flights, you shot down three Imperials, destroyed a beach house, and nearly got killed on a Star Destroyer. Come to think of it, you wrecked that too!"

"What? Luke took the ship. He wouldn't wreck it."

"I meant the Star Destroyer."

"Oh yeah!" He announced brightly. "Come to think of it, I did!"

Andover glanced at a nearby grandfather clock with a cracked screen. It still held time, though. He and his sister shared glances, realizing that within twenty hours their planet would be engulfed in war.

"Listen, Avvie. I have to do my part. You had your go at smuggling arms. I'm having my go as a fighter pilot. It's very clear that my driving force is upstaging you; this is no different. Either fight beside me, or don't. If you're this hesitant, I honestly couldn't care less."

These twins seemed more different than ever before.

Avramova rolled her eyes. "Then dibs on the _Belvedere_."

* * *

Luke flipped through the manual as he held the _Nicomedia _steady in hyperspace. He flipped the page and looked at an example set of coding that had been placed in the book. It described settings for the holoreceiver and its adjoined memory pack.

_Sub Reading Computer Journal_

_ (_str_)_

_ -Dim qinfo As New MSMQQueueInfo_

_ -Dim q As MSMQQueue_

_ -Dim msg As MSMQMessage_

_ -Dim strMachineId As String_

_ ' Obtain the computer GUID for the format name._

_ On Error GoTo ErrorHandler_

_ strMachineId = MachineIdOfMachineName(strComputerName)_

_ ' Set the format name of computer journal._

_ = "MACHINE=" & strMachineId & ";JOURNAL"_

_ ' Open the computer journal._

_ Set q = (Access:=MQ_RECEIVE_ACCESS, __

_ ShareMode:=MQ_DENY_NONE)_

_ Set msg = (ReceiveTimeout:=1000)_

_ Do While Not msg Is Nothing_

_ If MsgBox = "A message was removed from the computer journal.":_

_ Set msg = (ReceiveTimeout:=1000)_

_ Loop:_

_ MsgBox "There are no more messages. The computer journal will be closed."_

_ Exit Sub_

_ ErrorHandler:_

_ MsgBox "Error " + Hex( ) + " was returned." __

_ + Chr(13) + _

_[Close loop]_

Putting away the book, he shifted in his seat and sat back.

Meanwhile, Mara fiddled with the holographic display of Chandrila coming out of the backseat's side bulkhead. The targets displayed themselves on the globe.

"It says here that we are supposed to attack the city of Buran. Why Buran? It's not strategically significant." she stated to no one in particular.

"It's a hotbed of skirmishes, and it's near his home. Not a surprising choice," Luke said from the front. "We hit it about a year and a half ago." Suddenly, the holo replaced the globe with said mission's debriefing file.

"The onboard computer has a lot of knowledge on the subject," Mara demurred. "Andover must have spliced the main cyber gridlines to transfer all of the hard drive data."

"He did _what_?!" Leia called over the com. Unbeknownst to her, Mara had accidentally set her elbow on the communicator button. She promptly cut the connection.

"Are you still angry at him for the slave outfit incident?" Luke prodded. She snorted in indignation.

"Who wouldn't be?"

Luke smirked. "You get used to him after a while. And as much as everyone hates to admit it, he was a great asset to the Alliance."

"I would've labeled him more of a liability," she joked.

"He would have, too."

The attack fleet continued toward their destination. They were only a few hundred light years away.

* * *

Darth Vader kneeled on the floor in front of a hologram. The Emperor's shimmering figure appeared.

"What is thy bidding, my master?" Vader inquired.

"The future I have foreseen has… _changed_." Sidious announced.

"What of the plans on Chandrila?" Darth Vader asked.

Palpatine was hesitant to answer. "They have changed," he repeated. "I am concerned by the pesky Casimir twins. It seems they will affect the outcome of this war in… a negative way."

"Shira Brie is headed there now. Shall we change her orders?"

"…No," Sidious hissed. He changed his tone slightly. "Lord Vader, ready thirty Star Destroyers from the Imperial Center Defense Fleet. They shall be moved to Alsakan if necessary."

"Yes, milord. And what of the other recent disturbances in the Force? I am concerned these might be significant."

Palpatine had sensed Luke's magnifying skills. He was learning, progressing in the Jedi way that had been decimated two decades ago. He had also sensed Mara's switch. But for the time being, he felt that his apprentice did not need to know.

"They are irrelevant at this present time."

Aboard the _Executor, _the holo shut down, and Darth Vader returned to his post.

* * *

(Chandrila)

"I can't believe you goaded me into this," Avramova complained, as her fighter's ladder folded out of the fuselage.

"Goaded?" Her brother laughed from inside his own plane, strapping on his psychedelic crash helmet. "I'd say I used the guilt trip, if anything." He turned around in his seat and stared at her with puppy-dog eyes.

"Keep holding that expression, twinsie," she muttered. "Maybe your face will get stuck."

Andover shook his head in indignation, but he was still smiling. In an odd way, he was exited. He could feel an urging (presumably the Force) that pushed him to authorize the invasion. He was as excited as when it was first announced he would fly his ship into battle.

"By then, maybe yours will go back to normal," he joked.

_What did I do to get stuck with him for a brother? _Avramova thought to herself. She climbed into her fighter.

_You don't know? I think mom and dad had sex,_ he sent.

She froze in the cockpit. "You read my thoughts," she eventually spoke. "How?"

Andover, realizing his mistake, held his head (or rather, helmet) in his hands.

"It's a little… trick… I picked up somewhere…" he slowly began. "I… uh… I'll tell you later."

**I'm trying to write the Casimir twins' relationship as a little bit rocky. Their parents and family are dead (we will get to that later), and therefore this creates natural tension. Plus, they both have strong personalities and this can be used to spin plots.**

**Yes, Mara caved a bit easily. Her quest for revenge against Palpatine was her main reason for trying to join the Rebellion, not an ideological U-turn. It will all tie together, I assure you.**

**Thank you to all my reviewers. I have a lot of things on my schedule and the fact that you care enough to leave your comments or opinions really means a lot. It is for you I continue this story. **

**(Also, because I got bit by a plot bunny and I need to post some chapters soon, or else I might get "rabies.")**

** Heh.**

**-ClaptonJr.**

**P.S.: Gee, the Casimirs have a lot of spacecraft! If you're wondering what their fighters (the Astris and the Belvedere) look like, search Eielson Air Force Base on Wikipedia. The fighters are identical to the one in the picture of a black and white F-16 flying over some buildings.**


End file.
